// Have you ever heard the expression parents of yester-era used when scolding their children for misbehaving, "I'm going to string you up by your toes/ears/fingernails!"
Yeah, well, with all the meltdowns Sassy has been having I would like to just string myself up by the toes/ears/fingernails . . . in a nice, quiet, solitary, dark place. Just 20 minutes of peace hanging by a string from a body part where someone isn't crying, whining, yelling or complaining. That would be more peaceful than this current space of ridiculous chaotic nonsense I am living in.
// Do you remember the post HERE where I detailed my compassionate and nostalgic feelings for Mr. A
(aka my ex husband)?
I have been b*tch slapped back into the present and reality
In the post below (if you don't read Spanish) the first text says
"I would like to talk to my beautiful daughters before they sleep."
Essentially this would be normal except I had told him previously that the girls are busy Monday through Thursday and so if he would like to talk to them on Friday or Saturday that would be better. (He sent this text on a Monday)
So, I wasn't paying attention to my phone. I shouldn't have to be hanging on it waiting for anyone to text me.
Half hour past the girl's bedtime he texts me again.
"Senora, it has been two weeks since you have passed me to my daughters."
Well, actually the last two weeks they have had absolutely no interest in talking to you.
Not to mention he calls me Senora. Now to English speakers Senora simply means Mrs. But to Spanish speakers, especially between people who used to be spouses (especially him and me) Senora is a way for him to derogatorily call me old lady and make sure that I know he has disconnected emotionally. Fine. Disconnect. But do NOT call me that.
You can obviously read my response and he very maturely responds to me with:
"I don't feel like calling you by your name Senora."
He's trying to get under my skin. 11 years with him and I know this, so I'm DONE!
Raise my proverbial texting hands and surrender to complete ridiculous insanity that has always been him. I ask him not to text me again and he responds with this nugget of WISDOM.
"I do it for my daughters. I don't do it for you and I don't want to bother you either.You shouldn't go to church anymore because your heart is full of resentment and trash. I listen to the Word of God every day and I am more humble and I love God more and He has changed me inside. If I have problems now they won't conquer me and I'm going to show you. He is with me and you will see that very soon."
He has been telling me this for years now. How full of hatred and ugliness and evil my heart is. And how I should never step a foot inside of church lest God smite me on the spot for my despicable nature.
And I don't know if you feel or hear the hidden threat in there, but I do. There is always a threat in everything he says to me. If you truly didn't catch it, to him I am the problem and he is telling me that I can no longer conquer him (Gee, I haven't been trying) and that he will show me (inevitably trying to take my daughters from me) and I will see the fruits of that labor very soon.
// I confess that this interaction affected me deeply, as if it were the first time it ever happened. And then I went to sleep and I woke up and remembered that he is wrong. He doesn't know me. He doesn't know what he's talking about. He has purposely not seen his daughters in over one and a half years (because he refuses to follow the parenting plan) and THAT ISN'T ON ME. It's on him.
// I confess that I am tired of hearing people complain. All.The.Time.
Just be happy in the skin you're in, in the life you're in, in the situation you're in and if you can't be CHANGE IT and if you can't CHANGE IT seek help to CHANGE IT
// I confess that even though it is only mid-school year 2014/2015 I have already registered, re-enrolled and applied for class requests for my daughters for the 2015/2016 year. Control freak much? Me? Nahhhh . . .
// I confess that I walked on the treadmill the last two nights (because I have only had it the last two nights) for 45 minutes and an hour respectively and I feel great (albeit, a bit sore)
// I confess I was sad when I stepped on the scale this morning and it was the same as yesterday. I'll get over it. I have to remember either not to weigh every day or not to be disappointed when there are stalls. I can't lose something every.single.day. Noted self.
// I confess that as I am typing I have to pee so badly that I am in fear of soiling my pants, which would be bad because I have to wear them to Spanish class and I don't think the students or the teachers or anyone whose path I cross would appreciate the stench of urine wafting through the school halls.
SO ON THAT CHEERY NOTE
I shall go pee
Happy Humpday People
May your week be short
and may your bladder last until you reach the toilet