Bells Will Be Ringing...
...and they won't just be in my head, for once. :P
The big holiday is coming up. You know what I'm talking about. The big red X. And I'm not referring to the place in Riverside I go to for cheap cigarettes and liquor on occasion.
I'm talking Xmas.
Go ahead, blast me for using the heathen abbreviation. I don't care. I don't think the Xians are acting very X-like lately, so I really could give a shit less what they think of my abbreviating the highest of all their holy days. How about that nice person who called the store employee an asshole because he said "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Xmas?" I don't know What Jesus Would Do, but I'm reasonably certain he wouldn't have called a shop clerk an asshole.
Anyway...getting off that soapbox before I fall off it and break a hip...
I'm starting to feel normal again. El Nino is on Day 3 of "kindergarten"--what we're calling his new preschool because the word "school" gets his panties in a real wad, and who can blame him--and so far, so good. He's really into name calling, apparently, but I have to admit--I'd rather get a phone call saying "your son called three kids 'motherfucker' before lunch" than "your son took out six kids with one fit before 9 a.m."
Generally, he seems to be doing much better. He actually talks more about things that are in his head--which means he's processing shit rather than just letting it all fester and reacting to it without conscious thought. This is a good thing. Evenings have been much happier at home lately. My days are so much better because I'm not constantly worrying about where he's going to go next or when I'm going to get that call.
The DB situation continues to suck ass. I've instructed my attorney that DB and his lawyer can take their demand that I be personally present at all drop offs and pick ups for DB's scheduled visitation weekends and shove it up their collective ass. I'm sick and tired of having to deal with his confrontational bullshit. I got the fucking restraining order, who the fuck does he think he is to tell me I HAVE TO face him for any reason? Screw that. So I don't care if I have to send someone in my place, or if he does--I'm not going to be in the same room with that prick until we go to court.
Speaking of court--it would seem Ben and I will be in one soon, waiting in line for a quickie marriage ceremony. It's been brought to my attention that it would look unfavorable for me to be living in sin (never mind the other party is an unemployed drug addicted psycho who hasn't filed a tax return in 20 years) and that if we're going to get married, we'd be better off to do it now in terms of how I fare in my custody case. So we've discussed it, and decided "what the hell" and to do it next month.
I don't know how I feel about this. On the one hand, this is NOT how I expected we'd get married. I was hoping for something small and tasteful, but certainly something more than "now serving 21." And I'm not entirely sure he's not a bit freaked by the hastiness of the ceremony. And dammit, I don't want him to marry me if he's not ready to.
On the other hand, I can't think of anything that would make me happier than being his wife. And for a woman who swore she'd never wear that hat again, EVER, that's saying a fucking lot. And I hope to hell that I'm just over-analyzing again and being paranoid and that he really, truly, honestly knows this is right and that a few months doesn't make a shit bit of difference.
The big holiday is coming up. You know what I'm talking about. The big red X. And I'm not referring to the place in Riverside I go to for cheap cigarettes and liquor on occasion.
I'm talking Xmas.
Go ahead, blast me for using the heathen abbreviation. I don't care. I don't think the Xians are acting very X-like lately, so I really could give a shit less what they think of my abbreviating the highest of all their holy days. How about that nice person who called the store employee an asshole because he said "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Xmas?" I don't know What Jesus Would Do, but I'm reasonably certain he wouldn't have called a shop clerk an asshole.
Anyway...getting off that soapbox before I fall off it and break a hip...
I'm starting to feel normal again. El Nino is on Day 3 of "kindergarten"--what we're calling his new preschool because the word "school" gets his panties in a real wad, and who can blame him--and so far, so good. He's really into name calling, apparently, but I have to admit--I'd rather get a phone call saying "your son called three kids 'motherfucker' before lunch" than "your son took out six kids with one fit before 9 a.m."
Generally, he seems to be doing much better. He actually talks more about things that are in his head--which means he's processing shit rather than just letting it all fester and reacting to it without conscious thought. This is a good thing. Evenings have been much happier at home lately. My days are so much better because I'm not constantly worrying about where he's going to go next or when I'm going to get that call.
The DB situation continues to suck ass. I've instructed my attorney that DB and his lawyer can take their demand that I be personally present at all drop offs and pick ups for DB's scheduled visitation weekends and shove it up their collective ass. I'm sick and tired of having to deal with his confrontational bullshit. I got the fucking restraining order, who the fuck does he think he is to tell me I HAVE TO face him for any reason? Screw that. So I don't care if I have to send someone in my place, or if he does--I'm not going to be in the same room with that prick until we go to court.
Speaking of court--it would seem Ben and I will be in one soon, waiting in line for a quickie marriage ceremony. It's been brought to my attention that it would look unfavorable for me to be living in sin (never mind the other party is an unemployed drug addicted psycho who hasn't filed a tax return in 20 years) and that if we're going to get married, we'd be better off to do it now in terms of how I fare in my custody case. So we've discussed it, and decided "what the hell" and to do it next month.
I don't know how I feel about this. On the one hand, this is NOT how I expected we'd get married. I was hoping for something small and tasteful, but certainly something more than "now serving 21." And I'm not entirely sure he's not a bit freaked by the hastiness of the ceremony. And dammit, I don't want him to marry me if he's not ready to.
On the other hand, I can't think of anything that would make me happier than being his wife. And for a woman who swore she'd never wear that hat again, EVER, that's saying a fucking lot. And I hope to hell that I'm just over-analyzing again and being paranoid and that he really, truly, honestly knows this is right and that a few months doesn't make a shit bit of difference.
posted by Mitzi Green at 2:45 PM
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