Let's start from the beginning and state for the record, that I have shed more tears in the last 2 weeks in December than I have in an entire year.
It all started on the 15th. I had a 3 day weekend. I started it, by breaking down in tears in the office of my daughter's doctor; trying to get the point across that, when I say that if I am not there prompting her constantly to do things, it doesn't happen. Because I did what she suggested for an entire week; and NOTHING happened. She didn't go to school for 5 days. She didn't shower for over a week. She didn't change her clothes. She didn't get out of bed. She didn't eat. I feel like I have tried everything that I possibly can, and nothing is working.
Fast forward to Saturday. I got a new dryer. That was fantastic. It was not fantastic however, that my house was a disaster and it was the first time in almost 2 years since I have had a man in my house other than my son and my dad. Leading to the food for thought: who dates someone for 18 months and doesn't even flinch at the fact that they've never invited you over to their house? The story behind that is for a different post; long story short, it was very bad for my anxiety. I made my son go to the town dump with me and he did it. Every single thing I asked him to do all weekend long had to start with a 5 to 10 minute lecture and screaming fit about it first (on his part, not mine.). My daughter barely got out of bed. Nothing got done around the house because I had no energy to do it. I was in so much pain I could barely stand. The day before, I had it in my head all day long to check the oil tank and call for a delivery because they delivered M, W, F in my area and I didn't. I checked it when I was downstairs and low and behold, I was almost out and if I called them I didn't think I was going to have enough until they delivered Wednesday. My sister called me to chat out of the blue and I was just done with the day already. I told her what was going on, and she said for Christmas that she would give me $100 in oil and that she would call and have it delivered. I burst into tears.
Onto Sunday. Still no kids participating in life, let alone basic human decency. It was my son's potluck and Yankee swap for Boy Scouts that night and he was on edge making sure that we had all the ingredients to make the mac and cheese that we signed up to bring. He was acting like a 50 year old impatient man of the house from a stereotypical sitcom set in the 70's. By the time rolled around to bring him, I was so fed up with the universe that I dropped him off and left. The second my tires hit my driveway, I was swimming in hatred for my life. By the time I called my aunt and she answered the phone, I was drowning in tears of frustration and sadness. What parent genuinely hates their kids? At that moment, I sure as hell did. I sat in my car for an hour in the freezing cold, bawling like a someone who just watched their dog get run over. Because that is what happened: I wake up with a little cloud of hope, and some jackass always seems to find suck all the air right out of it. I called my dad and asked him to get my son and bring him home. I didn't want to see another person on the planet. I went to bed and stayed there until work.
Monday came and I tried to keep my hate and discontent to myself. I made it through the day without swearing at anyone. My son called me after he got home like he always does. To tell me....wait for it:
that he had just taken the bottles back (a never-ending battle in my house...and they get to keep the fucking money if they do it!). And asked me if there was anything else that he wanted me to do.
When I got home, I was greeted with a hug. All the clean laundry that I had done was brought upstairs and the clean dishes in the sink were put away. He said he had let the dog out like he was supposed to.
The whole night was like I was in the Twilight Zone. He asked me how to show him how to work the new dryer, so I did. I also showed him how to work the washing machine. Then he proceeded swap laundry three times. Now make no mistake, I am not complaining. It's just that we have lived in our house since 2009, and every time I have tried to show him how to use the washing machine, he says he can't remember how the next time I ask him to do it. WE HAVE THE SAME FUCKING WASHING MACHINE.... Then he was super impressed with the dinner that I made. And he made me a cake....by himself, not asking me for a single thing....just reading the directions on the box. And shoveled the porch off. And then, he put the Christmas tree up all by himself.
I was so busy googling which alien species might have taken over his corpse that I couldn't even enjoy the moment.
Thursday at work was fantastic. It was the Yankee Swap at work and I got a $20 certificate to the local casino and we snacked throughout the day. I made sugar scrubs and lotions out of coconut oil and a coworker ordered some off of me. I ended up making a bunch and selling it to other people, made almost $100. We closed early and barely had any patients that day. That evening it was the Star Wars: The Last Jedi premier. It was amazing. If you haven't seen it yet, YOU MUST!!! It was like the Super Bowl, but for nerds. Jesse was over the moon that he got his picture taken with both a Storm Trooper and Darth Vader. John had picked up tickets for Jesse and I to go to a different showing than the one that he was going to with his ex wife, her husband and their oldest daughter to avoid "conflict". Don't get me wrong, I get it....but I also don't. Again, another post.
And then on the way home, my son; who regularly pushes me to date/get married/find him a dad, but doesn't really talk about his own, asked me questions about his dad. As fate would have it, I was talking with my therapist about this very same thing happening the day before. I answered his questions, not really knowing where he was going with this; and then he says "You do realize that you just gave me everything I need." I asked him to clarify. He made it clear that the information that I gave him was all the information that he would need to find him on the internet. The person that he has not seen since he was 3 years old. 11 years ago. The person who was court ordered in our divorce to maintain contact with them via phone twice a week if I was to allow visitation, and hasn't called since 2009. The person who has not once given me a penny of child support. I slowed my brain down a tad, and just made him promise me that he would not do anything like that until he was 18. And he promised. And we left it alone.
The next day, was all planned out, or so I thought.
I was supposed to go to Bangor, do my Christmas shopping for the kids and then go home, get ready to go to my grandparents, and have a great evening. I had worked a couple of extra shifts that were supposed to give me overtime for Christmas. What really happened, is that I woke up to half a pay check in my direct deposit. Upon calling the payroll department to find out why, apparently the coworker that my manager assigned to update payroll when it was due didn't read my slip and 2 days didn't get factored in, and I was missing a bunch of vacation time. She wasn't sure that they could get it corrected in time to cut me a check, and I was beside myself most of the day. I went to Bangor and shopped for my son's stuff and some random things that I could think of. My daughter just wants money. She doesn't know what she wants until she actually sees it.
Things eventually worked out, I found some cute stuff and everything on my son's list at Home Depot came in under $50. I got home, carved up the ham and put it in the crock pot. My aunt was planning to meet the kids and I at the waterfront gazebo to take our pictures for cards and other things, but I couldn't find the battery charger to my camera. Then the kids wouldn't wear what I wanted them to wear. And it was freezing cold. They were miserable, my daughter wouldn't smile because I wouldn't let her wear her hair in a scarf because I love it when it's combed out. And then, when we got something that was good enough, my son locked the keys to the car in it. We waited outside in the freezing cold for 27 minutes before the garage that was 10 minutes up the road could show up.
I got to my grandparents in one piece and in a relatively good mood. Hanging out with my mom's side of the family always puts me at ease. Aside from the exception that my mother was not there. That too, is another post.
I love my dog, dearly. However, he seems to operate under the belief that it's his sole duty to be the most disgusting animal on the planet. On the way home from my grandparents house, the crock pot was not put in the back of the car right and it fell over, spilling ham and pineapple all through the back. When I got home, I did my best to clean it out, throwing it all off to the side of our driveway and the crock pot fell out of the car and the drippings got all over the driveway. The kids go to the house and let the Jack out, and he immediately bee lined it for the ham mess before I could see him. He rolled in it like it was the best thing ever. Then, he picked up a piece of ham almost the size of his head and thought he'd play "my precious" with it while I chased him all over the yard with it. I was finally able to entice him with a smaller piece that I "traded him" in order to get him back in the house. He ate it on the dining room rug, and then proceeded to roll himself on the rug before I could get to him. I had to pick him up, grease-ball and all, to give him a bath - which he loves, by the way. He gets himself as disgusting as possible, and jumps into the bath tub grinning from ear to ear.
I get up Saturday, again, with a plan. It was going to be great. I ran to Belfast to grab my check and get it deposited. My son had breakfast one on one and it was fun as always. I had ordered prints online for my step dad for my siblings "covert operation" for our Christmas present to him. You see, my mom had taken all of the family photos with her when they divorced and they used to be all over the walls. So I, got the idea that my siblings and I would get an 8x10 picture of our own families taken and framed, and that I would sneak over to his house and hang them up when we were all over at my brother's celebrating. I get to the Bangor Walmart, and the kiosk is completely closed. I flagged down an employee who said they couldn't help me because all the systems were down. Even though my pictures were probably sitting in one of the drawers. I was upset, but it was not the end. Again, I am determined to make a great day. I called Brewer Walmart to see if their systems were working. "Yes, absolutely. Come on over", said the representative who was working AT THE PICTURE KIOSK. I get there, fortunately I had the pictures that I ordered on my phone also, so I hook it up and place my order for the 1 hour photos. I do my shopping and get to the checkout isle. My card is declined. Weird, I had just deposited a check that was drafted from an account AT THAT SAME BANK. I call the branch on Broadway that is usually open until 4, no answer. I said screw it and decided to drive back to Bangor to discuss this with them - it's 2pm by that time. I show up at the branch, and it's closed. I proceed to completely break down in front of my son. I called my sister to tell her what was going on. I was ready to just give up and go home. She wired me $200 via Western Union - both of our banks were closed, insisting that I don't give up and trying to do everything that she could to help me all the way from Virginia. That money wasn't made available in my account until Wednesday. I get back to the Brewer Walmart, I get to customer service where they were holding my stuff for me and I paid for it. Then I get up to the back of the store where the picture kiosk is. There is a line halfway through the store to that desk, and one person is telling everyone that because they were so backed up, that our pictures were going to print sometime during the week and that they would call us when they were finished. I didn't get home until 4:30 and I was supposed to be at my brother's at any time. I got there at 6. The rest of the night was good. It was the first time that both of my dads were celebrating a holiday together. My mother was not there. No call. No text. Absent; like a shadow you can feel in the back of your mind when you're watching a suspense thriller. Like that dark secret you try to figure out the heroin has. I did my best to ignore it and move on with the day. I got stuck in my brother's driveway and had to be pulled out of his ditch by my brother and dad.
I worked Christmas Eve. That was a nice break from the chaos. Christmas day the kids were happy with what I got them. We stayed home. It was quiet. Nothing went wrong for a change.
But there's my daughter, who is going on week 2 with no shower.
Oh 2017, I am so glad to leave you right where you are.
