Delayed

I can't bring myself to write a beautiful letter to my sweet angel this month, when things are crumbling.

I thought we were doing better. He's hiding something, some fear, or hurt, or anger, and I can't do anything about it because I don't know what it is. Maybe his way of dealing is to take care of my physical needs, and neglect my soul, but it's driving us apart and right now, I don't have the energy to change the dynamic.

I'm pretty sure it will be okay. I'm not positive, but I can't sacrifice myself, my mental health, my pregnancy or my daughter's happiness to heal him. I can't do all those things a wife "should" do, hoping it will make him happy, because beneath it all, there is still something I can't reach. There is something in him that will always make him miserable, and I'm not the one to fix it. I can't.

He can't be healed until he is ready to ask for help. He is spiraling downward, and my fear of him hitting rock bottom comes out in flashes of anger and spite. I don't hate him, I hate his inaction, his self-medicating, and his insistence on being close to me in a way that I can't reciprocate when I am hurting too. I'm scared what this means for us in the long run. It was bad a few years ago, and it's getting steadily worse. We have our reprieves, many weeks and months have been great, but I can't figure out the trigger that causes it all to come rushing back.

He agrees with my brother that I am weak for believing in God and studying psychology. They all think they are the masters of their own universes, but they are all fucked up in the head and can't see past their own BS. At least I am working on my issues, and I feel like I'm improving, but it's hard to maintain those changes under the stress of dealing with someone steeped in denial. I've found myself reacting to him lately, and I hate it. I hate letting him get to me, letting him hurt me, then punishing him for it. I'm not in a great state of mind now, and I don't want to subject my unborn child to these rushes of hormones and anger and hurt.

I don't want to take a step back and watch him drown himself. But I can't be so close and feeling so helpless and manipulated. Both sides of the fence have shriveled up crab grass, so I'm trying to balance on it, making my way South, or maybe North, somewhere else, anywhere else, until things get better. I'm not depressed, just stuck and scared, and waiting for the last stone to crumble so we can pick up the pieces and rebuild a life together.

White Hot Rage

This past weekend, we had another visit from Crazy. It was probably close to midnight, and Will was over having a few drinks. She had called him at least three or four times in the span of an hour, and each time he had told her he was on his way home. At one point, P was inside taking care of business and Will and I were outside talking. Crazy called again and threatened to wake up the Baby to come get him. He reassured her that he was leaving right away, and as soon as he hung up, turned to me and said "If I'm not honest, I know I've got 30 more minutes."

Okay, so granted, their relationship is all types of messed up. He lies, she threatens, he consoles and lies some more, and then she goes off the deep end. He told me he's getting to the point where he just doesn't care anymore. Sad.

But here's what really pisses me off: He knows that if he doesn't go home, she's going to wake the kids up and come looking for him. What kind of father does that? What kind of father would rather lie to stay away from home for an extra 30 minutes when he knows his kids will suffer because of it?

And what kind of selfish biotch mother would do that to her own kids? What crazy-ass person who carried a child for 9 months and went through the pain of childbirth would wake her kids up at midnight, put them in the car, then drive to a house that they most likely recognize, to sit there in the dark while she yells out the car window for him to come home, threatening him with "Don't make me get out of this car, Will!"

What the hell is wrong with these people?

Every time I think about this, my eyes go blank with fury. I'm half-tempted to report these messed-up people to CPS, but I can't figure out who is worse. The Crazy mother who wants her husband home and under her supervision, although from my experience they really don't talk to each other unless they are yelling. Or the drinking, gambling father who will do anything to get out of the house and away from her.

I just don't understand how parents could act in a way that they know their kids will suffer. People like this shouldn't be allowed to raise children together, and I'm all for working things out, but it's been the same old shit for the two years we've known them.

If P and I get to the point that we simply can't get along anymore, we've vowed not to put any of our children in the middle. I'm sure the temptation will be there, since Taryn is the easiest way for us to hurt each other, but we've both been through it ourselves and know how much it can mess a family up.

We Do What We Can

How do you help a friend who's hurting? Besides smacking your husband in the mouth and telling him to shutthafuggup about how much he wishes they would get back together already (My Love, it takes time. We all want them back together, but if things doen't get worked out first, this is bound to happen again).

I didn't really smack him. At least not in the mouth.

So P and I did what P and I do best. We opened some wine, bought a couple packs of cigarettes, and distracted her as much as possible, for as long as possible with assinine trivia, Yahoo! News stories, and planning our Living Will. Or Trust, whatever. It's not written yet, but she had excellent insight in some things to consider.

And then we clogged her arteries with Burger King at 11:30, which slyly encouraged her to go to sleep soon after. And because we got her sloshed on day-old Sangria and two liter bottles of White Zin, she gets a day off work today! And maybe being busy would have been easier, but I'm hoping the time to focus on herself will be just as fulfilling.

And of course, after she slept we had to stay up and discuss more ... randomness, so I don't remember what time I went to sleep, and P was up later than me, but he actually got himself up and showered and to work. Poor guy. While I sit and blog, drinking my coffee in my PJs and contemplating which novel to dig into, he's probably at work now, uber-starving with the post-drinking BGs. Hehe.

But I'm sending my good juju to my Buddy today, and hoping that last night helped just a little bit. I'm so sorry I can't do more for you.

Letter Follow-Up

[This has been deleted, I don't want to lose my job]

A Letter to You

[As funny as I think this was, I can't leave it up. There's drama brewing and I can't afford to lose my job right now]

Hey STUPID! Yeah, YOU.

That little box over by the copy machine, the one with my name on it? It's called a mailbox. Next time you have somethng to give me and my door is closed because I'm making lunch for my kid for tomorrow, put it OVER THERE.

Please don't stand in front of the closed door for 5 minutes debating what to do with it. Pretty Standard Operating Procedures to use the box. Really, I promise. I won't be mad. No reason to prop a case up on the door, I do check the box every once in a while. Because it's a little distracting to see feet under my door when Lil' Bit is in use and Ms. Perky is taking a breather too, and really? As a Mother, I would have hoped you could figure that out on your own.

Thanks.


(No, not really you, I'm being an ass right now)

Yeah, You're a Little Too Comfortable in my House

I'm sensitive about my dogs, I admit it. I know they can get annoying with the incessant barking sometimes, especially when we're having a party or the baby is sleeping and people ring the bell.

But they are chihuahuas, and I accept their flaws with their loyalty and adorable-ness. And it's not that they bark to be mean, Rosco is a pussy and barks because he's scared or super-excited to see certain people. And Ka'i. I think she justthinks it's fun to bark, because there isn't much logic to when and why she does it.

This friend of the Nanny is staying with us this weekend. And I'm all for being immediately comfortable in someone's house, if only because it just isn't physiologically possible for me. But this bitch? She yelled at my dogs.

They weren't jumping against her (which irritates me beyond belief), they weren't licking (which makes Ally want to pour hot wax into her ears), they weren't begging to be cuddled with (because that makes Teresa want to toss them off the couch). They were outside with the door closed, barking. And this chick had just come back in the house with Julio, whom the puppies adore and whom they were trying to get to. I don't thikn they gave a flying flea fuck about this chick, and she goes, "Dios mios, can you guys just shut up for a bit?"

And I'm like, "Bitch, what did you say?" No, I didn't really, but I burned a hole in the side of her air-head with my evil eyes and wanted to kick her bleached-blonde, bougie-ass to the curb and have her walk the fuck back to Palo Alto.

I know. I talk shit to the dogs all the time. But it's the same as I do with my husband. It's one thing for me to talk shit about him to his face, it's another entirely for someone else to do it. And sweet geebus, if this chick doesn't reign herself in and learn some sort of etiquette, I'ma beat some into her.

My poor babies. Because I don't mind if people shush them. A lot of times they'll stop sooner than if I did it. And I don't mind people playing with them, but I hate when people provoke them by barking back (dumbasses), or scared them by pretending they're going to drop them from really high up (jerk-offs). I don't mind people taking a dominant stance, fliping them on their backs, or even gently pushing them away, off the couch or whatever. But don't try to act like you can yell at my dogs without my permission. That's a privelige your ass hasn't been granted.

Sheeeesh.

Ebb and Flow

Sometimes we click, sometimes we don't. More often than not lately, it seems like we're strangers. That the calls and the emails are obligatory. We plan to get together but then something always comes up and we're left exactly where we started.

It's to be expected. We're in different places now. When we first met, we had so much in common. Over the years we've both grown into independent adults. I've gotten married and had a child. You are on your way to the same, but squeezing the last bit of freedom out before it happens. It's to be expected.

We both have new friends. Your friends go out and party, travel, they don't have families to come home to, mortgages to pay. My friends are more home-bound and I know it's boring for you, and I'm sorry for that, but I've partied all my life. Now I'm doing the same in a new way. I have to be near my baby. I won't waste time getting ready to go out, or being so hungover the next day that I can't enjoy my time with her. You don't have the same worries I do. It's to be expected.

People grow apart in life, sometimes they grow back together. As much as I'd love to flow with you, seems we're at a lull. We have different lives, different priorities. You won't let me support you, and so now I don't know what to do. It's not that I feel useless, but you say you need this and that, and you still won't let me help you. There are all the grand plans, but none of them are happening. And I don't want to be the nag. I won't nag you. If you want to see us, we're here, otherwise... I can't take the responsibility for maintaining the friendship all alone. I don't have the energy.

So we'll see. Life events have a way of bringing people back together. My only thought is, is this happening now because you know you are leaving? Is it easier to push me away now, and not have to deal with it when you finally have your bags packed? If it's easier for you, fine. As long as you're conscious of your motivations. It's always easier to leave then to be left anyway.

Screw Your Contradictions

How can you look at me like I'm an evil mother for letting her cry herself to sleep, and in the next breath say it's my fault she's crying because I comfort her when she does?

You don't have kids, wench. You don't understand.

Deleted

Okay, so I just found out through myspace that evidently I am no longer someone's friend. I guess I should have known, I mean, some people just don't see how much they are inconveniencing others, how inappropriate their actions really are, and sometimes those same people just can't deal with hearing the truth of their situation.

I won't re-hash the details, suffice to say this person was putting me in a very fucked-up situation, and I told her I didn't want to be there anymore. Period.

And if that's wrong of me, to protect myself and my family, so be it. I have to do what I feel is right, because in the past I fumed in secret when these requests were made, and they kept coming, and coming. Even after promises that they would stop, it got out of hand.

I'm loyal to a fault, however, when you haven't know me that long and you impose on me and my family, making us feel uncomfortable and irritated, asking us to do things for you that you shouldn't be asking anyone in the first place, then I have to put a stop to it.

I'm sorry Crazy, that you feel like you can't be friends with me if I don't help you keep tabs on your husband, but maybe you need to take a look at yourself and re-evaluate not only your marriage, but the kind of person you are becoming.

But Still, Thanks

I know the response was tempered by recent events.

But still, thanks.

It makes things so much easier to know I can.

And please know you can too, thought I'm much more emotional than you.

I may not take it as well, but I will take it.

Because that's what friends do.