Well, the shit…literally… has hit the fan.
Here’s what happened…
Wait, first, from here forward, EX will now be referred to as El Chupa Douchebag. It’s like the mythical beast, El Chupacabra, when only shows up cloaked in darkness and devouring prey and douchebag is self-explanatory.
No, it’s not nice and yes, it’s immature, but it’s fitting and makes me feel better just saying it so I don’t really care. It also allows me to refer to him as Chupa around the kids without them being aware that I am talking about him.
Anyways, the kids arrived home from visitation, not in the best way. They were dirty (smelt like smoke and cat poo), they were tired, they were hungry (they hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and it was 6 o clock at night), they were all banged up (tip of Pcikle’s nose was skinned raw- his finger was cut and swollen, Jedi’s ankle was swollen and bruised) and they all had complaints about their weekend with El Chupa (they were bored, they just sat around, all El Chupa and his girlfriend, Stankcy (from here out) did was watch movies and drink and smoke).
I was not amused. First and foremost because there is a statement in our divorce papers that says we will not be under the influence of drugs or alcohol while the kids are in our care. It’s there for a reason. I don’t think he’s a bad guy, but he’s a bad guy when he drinks. I don’t want it to affect his relationship with his kids as it affected our marriage. It makes Pickle a basket of nerves and he acts out. But I decided, once again, to give him the benefit of the doubt and call him and try to get better details. After all, it is well known that kids can over exaggerate.
I put Diva in the tub and I called him and asked him when about they had eaten last and immediately he’s agitated. I could tell by the tone of his voice, he was with her and he was in a shitty mood. I cut it short and decided to change the subject, until he was alone and I could find him in a more productive way. I told him I forgot about our city taxes and I would do them tonight and that we probably owe money, I’d call him tomorrow and let him know.
Then I went to put Pickle in the shower and found his underwear covered in shit. Boys are gross, sometimes they leave more than skid marks, sometimes you get the whole tire, but… with Pickle’s history, knowing this is how he acts out and thinking about the stories I had just had relayed to me, this was more concerning to me. Aside from that, these were the same underwear I know he had on when he left Friday, so how long had they been like that? I asked Pickle what had happened and he said he held it too long, cause someone else was in the restroom and when he was done there was no toilet paper. Ok. it happens, but I still wonder why can he be home for 20 mins and I can smell it, but they didn’t?
So I call El Chupa back and tell him and he is instantly pissed because I called him about shit. He’s totally missing the point of what I’m trying to ask which is what the hell has been going on over there and how much attention are these kids really being paid. He says he will call me back cause he is busy. And then he calls me back, on speakerphone, being all pretentious, with Stankcy adding in her two cents in the background. He is defensive. I tell him he doesn’t need to be, because I’m not blaming him – this is not about HIM. He goes on to say that the shit in Pickle’s underwear must have happened here, because why wouldn’t they have smelt it in his “little Jeep” – she adds in, when they were riding together “for over an hour” – she adds in. I ignore her and tell him, I’m not looking for blame, I’m just trying to let you know what’s going on with our kid. He insists it must have happened here. He talks down to me and is quite disrespectful, almost mocking – which I feel is for “her” benefit. I tell him, he has no reason to talk to me like that. He starts telling me how annoyed he is with me and the drama I create.
Why can’t I even talk to him about something that is seriously concerning me, and even more, why isn’t he concerned? He keeps talking to me very disrespectfully and with her chiming in and thinking about how I’ve been the one helping him with his problems with her for the last three weeks, whenever she isn’t around, considering the things he told me about how frustrating it is to live with her and her kids because she has lower expectations of her children than we do, I start feeling really hurt and then I say …
“Ya know what? You’re a piece of work. You’re fake. You’re two faced. You’re not gonna treat me one way when she’s not around and call me from work and act all buddy- buddy so you can tell me about all your problems with her and expect me to be a friend, and then turn around and treat me like shit in her presence when I’m trying to talk to you about our children.”
Click. He hangs up before I can say anything else.
Not so surprisingly, this is the first day in about 3 weeks he hasn’t called me from work to talk about her. I assume this is because now they can be united – against me.
So, I still have this tax issue. I call him. I text him a couple times about the taxes to no avail. Finally, he calls me back and I ask him what he wants me to do. He says, “You’re gonna have to sign them and I don’t know what the fuck you want me to do about the payment cause I’m not driving out there for that shit tonight.” I tell him, I can’t sign his name to them and how about he offer to pay half of it and we file an extension. He starts getting condescending again and telling me I shouldn’t have waited so long to do this. I ask him when these taxes solely became my responsibility. He was the one who wanted to file together, so he wouldn’t have to payback an underpayment. I tell him they are just as much his responsibility.
He changes the subject…as he always does when you make a point, and he says…”I tried to call and talk to the kids last night and (heavy sarcasm) I’m sure you were all in bed, but I wanted to tell you, when I got back here last night, I found shit all over the toilet, so it looks like he held it, ran in, pulled down his pants, shit and didn’t wipe.” I tell him what Pickle had said about there not being any toilet paper. He tells me it was behind him on the back on the commode. I say, “So after everything you said to me yesterday, you’re saying now that it did happen there but you just didn’t know? I mean, how long had he been like that?” He starts flipping out, telling me he doesn’t have time for my fucking drama. I tell him there’s no need to talk to me like that. Ask him what his problem is. He hangs up on me. Jer is now getting pissed because he can hear him screaming at me over the phone all the way across the room and that I’m talking to him in a normal tone of voice telling him to calm down and he doesn’t need to act like this. Jer says, “This is ridiculous, you’re trying to talk to him about taxes and he’s accusing you of creating drama and you’re standing here, right in front of me, doing nothing”. I call back. He’s yelling that he’s not gonna deal with unnecessary drama. I tell him I didn’t do anything or say anything to him, I’m just trying to finish our taxes, he’s the one who keeps hanging up and screaming and he says…”See you create drama so much you can’t even recognize it.” I start laughing, he hangs up on me again. I call back and say, “This is my last phone call to you, I just want to know how you want to go about dealing with these city taxes, because I need your W2s, you need to sign them and we owe the city money.”
He actually has the audacity to say. “Fuck you. You fuckin pay it! I don’t fucking live there anymore! It’s not my fuckin problem.”
Come on! He lived here all of last year. Our federal taxes and state taxes he was in such a hurry to do TOGETHER, to cover his ass and get some money back, and now he’s doing this?
Well, from that perspective providing transportation and spending an hour of my time twice a week for HIS visitations is not my fuckin responsibility, I don’t live in fuckin North Royalton! It’s not my fuckin problem. Ya know? You try to be fair. You try to be nice and help a guy have a relationship with his kids.
Well, fuck being fair and fuck being nice. If I had filed my taxes as single, like I was supposed to, he would’ve owed the government $6,000 in underpaid taxes. I thought that was messed up so we filed jointly and split the refund. Supposedly to pay off debt, like our attorney fees from our divorce. Which I paid and he didn’t. He was an asshole about the whole thing, he would call and scream at me to file them, before I had the paperowrk I needed to do it and when I would tell him that he would accuse me of trying to have something to hold over his head and creating drama. This is how I get treated when I was doing HIM a favor? Because I did that, I created a big problem with my financial aid for college, I lost my Pell grant and now this with the city taxes and having to pay it on my own???
And when he told me his work schedule was making it hard for him to drive out here to pick up and drop off the kids, I offered to drive them one way. It’s not my responsibility. I’m not the one who moved 40 mins away. But I did it for the kids, to try to keep the consistency of their visits. But why? He’s not taking care of them and he doesn’t appreciate it.
He’s an ungrateful, selfish asshole! So Fuck HIM!
I’m so over all of this. I’m done. I just want to move on with my life. I’m done dealing with him, all his bipolar horseshit and his assbackwards way of thinking. If he wants to make me out to be this horrible bitch, I could oblage, but truthfully…I’m scared of him. There is something wrong with him. He’s not stable. The things he does, don’t make sense and I’ve spent way too many years trying to m ake it better and trying to fix things for him. It’s not worth the effort for me to be a bitch and I don’t need to fuel his flame. So, instead, I’m just promising myself…to only do what I am required to do and nothing more. It doesn’t benefit anyone. I know this.