Sick
I wonder if Meredith Brooks, when she penned the lyrics to that "Bitch" song, happened to be pregnant? Because "I hate the world today" seems to be my new mantra.
I did not go anywhere to attempt to retrieve my child this weekend. It seemed a ridiculous notion once I really thought about it and realized I had no sweet clue where they really were. So yesterday, I abandoned my plan to drive to southeast Missouri and plead my case to the sheriff. This morning, I abandoned my plan to park behind his car in his driveway and plead my case to the KCPD. (Mostly because I know the KCPD is useless.) Instead, I went to work and decided to let the useless lawyers hammer this one out. In the end, I'm sure, nothing will happen. Db will continue to do what he wants when he wants without the slightest hint of consequence. Because in the end, no one really gives a flying fuck about "the best interests of the child," regardless of how much they love tossing that phrase around. And I've essentially wasted $20k to prove it.
Now I'm wondering how the hell I'm going to manage picking up Bob this evening without getting out of my car and attacking that motherfucker's stupid face.
I'm sick of the fucked up family courts and their continued bullshit. I'm sick of db using my kid as a pawn in his stupid game of control. I'm sick of having to just sit back and shut up while that asshole gets to run amok and screw up everyone's lives.
And I'm sick of being sick. No more puking, but the daily nausea and bloating and general malaise is doing me in. Yeah, yeah, "every pregnancy is different," but I never really believed that, and thought sure this go around would be just as problem-free as Bob's stint in utero. Ha. I finally found some ginger chews at Hy-Vee (in their fantastic health food section--I can't believe the amount of gluten-free shit they have and am tempted now to go back to the GF diet), and they've helped quite a bit. I'm also chugging ginger ale at an alarming rate. But by the end of every day, I'm so bloated I could easily pass for third trimester. I can't tell if I'm pregnant or just fat. (But overnight, the bloating resolves--which is why I'm considering the GF diet again.)
I just hope karma doesn't really decide to teach me a lesson and have me wind up on bedrest at 24 weeks or something equally ridiculous.
I did not go anywhere to attempt to retrieve my child this weekend. It seemed a ridiculous notion once I really thought about it and realized I had no sweet clue where they really were. So yesterday, I abandoned my plan to drive to southeast Missouri and plead my case to the sheriff. This morning, I abandoned my plan to park behind his car in his driveway and plead my case to the KCPD. (Mostly because I know the KCPD is useless.) Instead, I went to work and decided to let the useless lawyers hammer this one out. In the end, I'm sure, nothing will happen. Db will continue to do what he wants when he wants without the slightest hint of consequence. Because in the end, no one really gives a flying fuck about "the best interests of the child," regardless of how much they love tossing that phrase around. And I've essentially wasted $20k to prove it.
Now I'm wondering how the hell I'm going to manage picking up Bob this evening without getting out of my car and attacking that motherfucker's stupid face.
I'm sick of the fucked up family courts and their continued bullshit. I'm sick of db using my kid as a pawn in his stupid game of control. I'm sick of having to just sit back and shut up while that asshole gets to run amok and screw up everyone's lives.
And I'm sick of being sick. No more puking, but the daily nausea and bloating and general malaise is doing me in. Yeah, yeah, "every pregnancy is different," but I never really believed that, and thought sure this go around would be just as problem-free as Bob's stint in utero. Ha. I finally found some ginger chews at Hy-Vee (in their fantastic health food section--I can't believe the amount of gluten-free shit they have and am tempted now to go back to the GF diet), and they've helped quite a bit. I'm also chugging ginger ale at an alarming rate. But by the end of every day, I'm so bloated I could easily pass for third trimester. I can't tell if I'm pregnant or just fat. (But overnight, the bloating resolves--which is why I'm considering the GF diet again.)
I just hope karma doesn't really decide to teach me a lesson and have me wind up on bedrest at 24 weeks or something equally ridiculous.
posted by Mitzi Green at 11:47 AM
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