Yesterday hit a point with the Wasband that left me spending the evening cooling off and collecting my thoughts before I decided to blog (as to not get myself in trouble in our pending divorce litigation.)
Beginning with the spawn had parent-teacher conferences yesterday. Your typical yearly standards. We both attended and all was fine and dandy other than some typical homework/subject woes and lack of organization on the tiny spawns part. We sat at the table, politely and composed, as parents, putting aside our differences for at least two 20 minute session spans. Then we all walked back to the house together (our home is 5 houses from the boys school.)
Then the bickering began.
Figured I’d share some random FSTMMH this morning! Enjoy!
Okay can’t let this blog sink in the deep end! Got my floaties on back to the Shallow End!
Tonight’s randomness, I shall introduce you to my youngest son Nathan. Nathan is 7, excuse me 7 & 3/4, likes to hang out in his underwear, or dress himself, ahem ‘uniquely’ to say the least, and is awesome. And not just because he’s mine, but because such a tiny human to act so “matter of fact” with the nonsense he tells you, utterly cracks me up. He’s an epic smart ass and has no idea. His future sarcasm shall be outstanding I can already tell. “He really is mine!” ❤
No, really the kid could probably convince you to buy his old underwear. Which leads to a little story.
When Nathan was in kindergarten, one day after picking him up from school, we walked in the house and I stated my typical post school mantra “hang your back pack up, go wash your hands then you can have a snack AT the TABLE.” It’s a crap shoot if I only have to say that 1-3 times or 50. That day was a 1-3 times day. I pleasantly sat on the couch looking at the papers he had brought home while I heard the toilet flush, sink running, then feet anxiously hurrying towards me.
“Mom.” “Yeah bud?” “You are not going to believe this.” “What Nathan?” “Well I went in to the bathroom and realized I had to pee before I washed my hands and LOOK!…” A single step back and he drops his shorts revealing his Spider-Man size 3 tiny butt tighty whiteys. “What am I looking at buddy?” Then Spider-Man hits the floor to reveal Spongebob tighty whiteys underneath. “Mom, I wore…TWO pairs of underwears (sic) ALL DAY.” spoken while looking at me like I was some idiotic teen and he the father pointing out my naiveness Giggling at this point; “Nathan, why did you wear two pairs of underwear today?” sigh from him“I forgot I had underwear on when I put them on this morning.””You forgot?? How do you forget that?!?” “Well maybe you shouldn’t let me watch tv when I’m getting dressed mom.”
Always mom’s fault somehow. Haha
Another great thing about Nathan; he has a henchman/evil scientist type laugh. It’s hilarious from such a cute little thing, especially when he still had curls. Here is an old clip of it I still have on my phone.
Today was “Part 1”. Today sucked. All the sleeplessness, stress, preparing, ended with a simple “do you understand Miss Daniels?” And I replied “Yes.” AND. THAT. was it. The county decided that the child support judgement can’t be defined yet. That everything is too “special circumstances” and it will now be handled in the divorce when we get to that point. Yay fun! Neither of us was ordered to pay the other anything currently in child support. The smile on his face post court made me want to punch a kitten. (Not really, but no way in hell will I put my actual thoughts of bodily harm on the “Internets” lol) but the thought of punching a kitten should let you know the equivalent.
Yet! IT’S all my own doing…??!? Why can’t I crush him like he so easily does to me?!?! Sigh, the knowing of how me screwing him over will trickle down to our boys, yet again prevents me from being the Incredible Hulk that is dying to unleash on him.
So after the Wasband got the boys late afternoon, my mother looked at me and said, let’s go have Mexican food. Game on. 2 margaritas and an enchilada, after days on really not a single substantial meal, and days of no sleep…I am in a relaxed sloth mode food coma to the extreme. I think I’m going to sleep tonight… finally… Let’s just hope it’s in my bed and not on my patio.. Again. Lol
So this shall be my first “Deep End” post and I’m actually quite surprised how difficult it is for me to convey my thoughts in to type vs the ammo I’ve got ready to fill my “Shallow” posts.
Tomorrow is officially our first court date. A child support/custody hearing. I am dreading it like a hot poker to the eye. Why though?? This is only in my benefit. I have only received 1 1/2 payments of anything from the Wasband since this ordeal became my reality 4th of July. Maybe it’s the fact that I know he refuses to play nice. That tomorrow is surely to be as much fun as laying naked in a pile of fire ants covered in honey. That I am already so drained by the entire ordeal that the thought that this is essentially just “Part 1” of the long haul nightmare that he has promised/threatened me with so kindly. Not to mention his lawyer makes my skin crawl. Just a despicable human being that doesn’t have our boys best interest as a priority.
When this all officially started 4.5 months ago, I didn’t dislike him even. We had just grown apart, had our differences. Married young, our wants had grown and changed and we could not be the people to fulfill what the other needed anymore. We tried. We really did. We are both just too set in our ways and sadly started trying a few years too late. Unfortunately, we are just another statistic. Something that I always swore I was never going to be. I was going to be the girl who got married at 19 and and prove everyone wrong. At first it was heart wrenching. Finally giving up and agreeing to his want of a divorce, “Am I doing the right thing? Why don’t I have any more fight left? Will my kids one day understand that I REALLY, truly wanted to fix ‘us’ more than just for their sake?” I battled this for a full year before I succumbed to his fight. And when I finally did, there was a sense of peace immediately, guilt for my children’s sake, but a serenity knowing that I would no longer feel like I had to walk on egg shells and was holding my family together with dental floss. We were civil, amicable, and discussed how we both were happy to be moving on, sad that we failed, yet wanted nothing more than to see the other be happy. There was no level of hate portrayed. I remember every. Tiny. Detail. Of that conversation that late night in May.
But here we are. Adding cliché after cliché to our statistic proving fiasco. I would still like to be friendly for our boys’ sake. It makes me sick to my stomach knowing that may never be, or if ever, a long way down the road yet. I can be as nice as can be yet he is incapable of absorbing and reflecting it. I really believe now that he enjoys dishing me misery. That it’s a sick twisted game for him to see who ‘wins’ in what remains of ‘us.’ I’m willing to take it all and still try and be civil, but when he brings the honey badger out to protect her kiddos best interests…. Well all I can say is I hope he remembers my bite is FAR worse than my bark and that a honey badger will persist to the point of perishing.
Divorce sucks. The only bright side to any of this anymore is I no longer have any dwindling thoughts of “am I doing the right thing?” It has reached the point of the nastier he treats me, the bigger the smile of relief crosses my face. The ‘WTF was I thinking that there was ever hope?!?’ moment. So as my boys are happily cutting Zzzzz’s on an air mattress tonight next to my bed, in my mothers house, I’m smiling now. At least tomorrow IS “Part 1”. Bring on “Part 2,3,4….” Whatever you got buddy because in the end I AM and WILL continue to be happy regardless of your attempts to destroy my spirit.
I love to laugh and to make others laugh. Especially when you’re in a foul/blah/sad/whatever mood and then outta nowhere something cracks you up, can’t stay irked. Or at least I can’t. I also can’t hold in laughter. I am ridiculously guilty of laughing at verrrrrry inappropriate times. I sucked sitting in church as a kid, was always getting moved to the front seat in class to be shut up, and even as an adult and a mom, when my kid says something funny as hell and beyond age inappropriate, I have to walk out of the room so they don’t see me cracking up before I have to threaten their existence and turn in to “the meanest mom EVER.”
Point is, I’m a giggler and proud. When I’m bored, I put in far too much effort looking for things to make me laugh and then saving them to share with whomever. Needless to say, my collection of e-cards, funny pics, videos, sites, etc is of pretty epic standards. The more random, foul, WTF?!? inducing nonsense the better. Which I’m sure is not everyone’s cup of tea, but hey, whatever floats your boat, sorry if I offend you in advance haha. So this will be the beginning of my continuing blog section that I’ll label “FSTMMH” in short, Funny Shit That Makes Me Happy, and will be filed in the Shallow End.
And now, hope these little randoms, in no particular order, entertain you as much as they did me.
Howdy. I’m Trish.
Let me introduce myself a little bit. I am a 33 year old, newly single mom from Orange County, CA. No, I’m not a “Real Housewife”, but I’m open to the idea if anyone would like to fund it!
Kidding, okay so anyways back to reality.
I’m a self proclaimed dork. I’m goofy yet highly intelligent, carefree yet a neurotic worry wart, stubborn and determined yet can be a sloth with the best. I still mentally feel like a teenager yet need high levels of ibuprofen to physically match it. I’m probably one of the most random people on the planet. I share what’s on my mind, regardless if it’s relevant to anything. I’m an insomniac. Surely, nothing to do with the 3-4 blue Monsters I drink in a day. (I know, I know.) I have an unhealthy addiction to collecting smart ass e-cards and sending them to my friends. I am easily amused and crack myself up. I think I’m pretty damn entertaining and witty. Not a day goes by where I don’t make someone laugh. Yes, I was/am that awkward girl growing up that used sarcasm to distract from the fact I was a chunky nerd with a bad perm, and have the fashion sense of a goat. I am a happy person. My face normally hurts by the end of the day from smiling. Even in the brief moments the Wasband (I splain below) manages to piss me off to no end, there is always something or someone that will make me smile.