Joy Offender and Devil Spawn

I might not be as close as I like with my family. This is mainly because we live so far apart. However, regardless of any emotional or physical distance, my family is loyal. We know we’ll stick up for each other no matter what the allegations or who the assailant. No fight is too big or small for a family member in need.

I suppose that is why I am having such a hard time understanding the actions from one of Minute Man’s aunts. (We’ll just refer to her as Aunt Joy Offender for now.) So Aunt JO decided she was going to befriend Girl Child’s mother.

This alone I do not understand, given the two and a half years MM and (let’s just call her Devil Spawn) spent in court battling over custody rights. Never mind all the underhanded behavior manipulation that has been placed on Girl Child as an effort to twist the knife in MM’s side every chance she gets.

I guess Aunt JO decided it would be a great idea to be friends with Devil Spawn. So they started chatting and even planned beach dates together.

In one of these friendly little chats with Devil Spawn, Aunt Joy Offender happen to mention that Minute Man and I were having problems in our marriage. She even gave out all the dirty little details of our fights and private life, that I had shared with her in confidence.

Devil Spawn was delighted at the news she learned from Aunt JO and decided it would be a great time to take Minute Man back to court to try once more to take full custody of Girl Child.

So now we’ve had to take Girl Child out of private school in order to pay thousands and thousands of dollars to a lawyer to defend our right to maintain custody of Girl Child.

The lawyer MM hired is confident that custody rights will not be affected in this dispute as Devil Spawn has no grounds for changing the court ordered 50/50 custody arrangement, which has been working for the last five years.

So that’s really not the issue. The issue is, I feel, Aunt JO who continues to be friendly with Devil Spawn and has now even started to tell other family members that my husband is a pimp and a drug dealer simply because he works at a night club.

Now those of you who have been reading my blog know that I haven’t always painted my husband in a flattering light and that I am less than pleased with his current career path. However, I have never taken any shots at his parenting skills because he is awesome with Girl Child and has taught me everything I know in parenting - and I think we BOTH do a damn good job. Nor have I EVER suggested that he is a pimp and or a drug dealer!!

So when some Joy Offender who is supposed to be a loyal and trusted family member starts taking shots at my husband and handing ammunition to the enemy, and threatens the well-being of my family, well I have a problem with that.

So the problem with the problem that I’m having is do I just ignore Aunt JO and in the future be more cautious about what information I give her OR do I take a more hands on approach and give her a piece of my mind??

It's really not so much about the fact that Aunt Joy Offender betrayed my trust as much as it is about defending my husband. Lord knows, between my past blog entries, false allegations made by his ex and current so-called family members the man has taken a beating and might just really need to see somebody take a stand for him for once.

I think the reason I am writing this blog is an actual attempt at taking the high road and keeping my mouth shut, because really its my fault for opening my mouth to Joy Offender in the first place that got us here. And sometimes just venting and feeding some bitches to my bloggy wolves is enough to help me maintain a more upstanding image in real life…. So for right here and right now it’s GO TIME!!

　

　
　

Little Dog Syndrome

I took Dippy for her first and last walk on the beach yesterday evening. I knew she suffered from little dog syndrome amplified by little-dog-with-three-legs anxiety. However, it wasn't until last night that I witnessed a full-blown episode of I-got-a-lot-to-prove-to-the-world. She went ballistic!

At first I thought it was cute when she barked at the ocean the first time she saw it, like she was greeting an old friend. By the time we got down on the beach, though I realized she was just getting warmed up.

A little dog off its leash came up to sniff noses with Dippy. I tried warning the owner she wasn't good with other dogs. For a few seconds, I thought Dippy was going to prove me wrong as she politely touched noses with the other dog. Then as quick as it was there, it was gone and Dippy snapped in the other dogs face.

I was embarrassed as I dragged her away from the other dog on her leash. Then she quickly spotted another dog and barked and lunged at the end of leash at it until I dragged her out of sight. This continued with every dog she saw which must have been close to twenty.

I thought maybe the excitement of the situation would pass and she would mellow out but her barking just escalated the longer we were on the beach. The last dog she saw was the worst as she attempted to drag me across the sand so she could tell them up close and personal that if they had a problem with her three-legged cuteness then she would have no problem taking one of their legs as her replacement. 

At this point I actually had to pick her up and carry her off the beach. I actually had to cover her eyes to get her to stop barking and struggling.

I was beyond embarrassed as people stared at the psycho killer I struggled to keep under control. It was actually more embarrassing than the time one of my boobs slipped out of my bikini top and I didn't notice until some fat bald guy started staring.

Does anyone have any suggestions on how to correct this type of behavior? 

Poky Little Puppy Book Review

Does anyone remember this classic children's book? I had the opportunity of getting reacquainted with this book as I pulled it out of Girl Child's collection for a recent bed time story session. I couldn't help but notice some glaring flaws the left me wondering how the hell this book ever made it to print. They are as follows.

First there are five puppies who bust out of the yard to go exploring. Apparently the fifth puppy is nameless because as the author rambles off the names we have:

Roly-Poly
Pell-Mell (Pell-Mell what the hell??? Creative juices were really flowing on that one!)
Tumble-Bumble

Then it occurs to me maybe the puppies are ALL nameless. I had to stop and reread the sentence:

And down they went to see, roly-poly, pell-mell, tumble-bumble, till they came to the green grass; and there they stopped short.

I'm not exactly an English major, but I can tell you there are several grammatical flaws with that one sentenced alone. So maybe because roly-poly, pell-mell and tumble-bumble are not capitalized this is some sort of twisted description of puppy dog banter??

Now I'm annoyed.

The asshole that wrote this crap could have at least done these dogs the courtesy of naming them.

I get over it.

The four puppies get to the top of the hill when they realize that one puppy is missing. They discover the poky little puppy sniffing around at the bottom of the hill. They go ask Poky what's up and he says he SMELLS rice pudding.

Rice pudding? You got to be kidding. Now I have to stop and check the copyright date on this book. (1942) Ok. I assume this is before Twinkies were invented, so I let it slide.

The four puppies take off to get them some yummy rice pudding. However Mommy was pissed they dug a hole under the fence to get out and sent them to bed without dessert.

That bitch!!

Then Poky comes home when they're all asleep after.... after what? Where the hell has Poky been all this time?? Probably pissing on telephone poles, chewing laundry off clothes lines and porking the poodle next door. The author simply doesn't say. All she says is Poky came back saw the rice pudding, ate it all up, and went to sleep.

Now does that really sound fair?? No! That's an outrage!!

The next morning someone had filled the hole under the fence and put up a sign that read:

DON'T EVER DIG HOLES UNDER THIS FENCE!

Wait a minute, dogs can read??? Hmmm.

Of course dogs can't read because they dug another hole under the fence and the same events unfold, except this time Poky HEARS someone spooning chocolate custard into their bowls.

Chocolate custard?? Even Girl Child caught this glaring mistake!

"Oh no! Chocolate is bad for dogs!!" she cried.

Damn straight, it's bad for dogs!!! What kind of people are these???

I'm fearful. Will the puppies eat the chocolate custard and have an expensive trip to the vets?

Nope! Mother sends her naughty little puppies to bed without chocolate custard and Poky again comes home after whoring around the neighbor and eats the chocolate custard.

At this point I'm kinda wishing that punk Poky will die from too much chocolate.

He doesn't. The next morning all the puppies go out again despite a sign that now reads:

DON'T EVER EVER DIG HOLES UNDER THIS FENCE!

I don't think dogs understand bold print either because those pesky little puppies dug another hole and repeat the same events.

A little redundant.

This time Poky SEES something - a strawberry! Apparently this means (on some planet with a different system of logic) that there is strawberry shortcake waiting at home for the pups.

So they go home and their bitch of a mother sends them to bed without any dessert again, but this time the puppies wait until the bitch is asleep and they go fill the hole back up! Their mother sees them doing this and rewards them with the strawberry shortcake.

Poky comes home just as they are licking up the last bits and he has to go to bed with no dessert.

When I read this part Girl Child groans out a sympathetic remark for Poky.

Wait a minute? Seriously?? Poky (and we all know how he REALLY got that name) has been out getting his little puppy pecker wet with all the neighborhood tramps and letting his brothers take the heat for it and NOW the reader is supposed to feel sorry for Poky???

Am I missing something???

 

Just Jess

Being a stepmother might just be the most thankless job on the planet. I've come to realize this in the last few weeks as Minute Man learned that his ex is taking him to court again to try and gain full custody. Currently they spilt custody 50/50 which I think benefits Girl Child in many ways. The kid gets twice as many presents on holidays and gets two birthday cakes. What's not to love about that??

Work has been stressful to say the least and I feel like I've been set out to sea and I've been struggling for weeks just to keep my head above water. Now, added to my shoulders is the stress of dealing with a family that I just worked so hard to keep together from falling apart again.

The accussations made against both of us has me foaming at the mouth, which is really not like me. The dirty tricks and the manipulation placed on Girl Child is an outrage. For the first time - maybe ever - I've found myself tempted to play dirty. I know now the meaning of blinded by rage.  I feel blinded from being able to see right from wrong. I've always gone through the most trying times with nothing less than class and dignity, but now I'm having a hard time telling simple right from wrong and that leaves me feeling really lost. When you can't find your own center, how do you navigate through dark times??? When somebody threatens your family do you always take the high road knowing that you'll come out on top or do you throw dirt in their eyes when they're already down to ensure victory? My moral compass has been compromised by a giant magnet and is spinning like a stripper on a Friday night pole dance.

Maybe in some ways all this is a blessing. It's made me realize that the desire to be a mother which I thought would be filled when I married MM is still empty. I'm not a mother. Even Girl Child herself told me tonight that I'm not really her mother and she's not really my daughter. I always knew those words were coming but I wasn't prepared for the sting they would bring. Of course, I do all the things a mother does but she's right. I realize that lots of mothers feel taken for granted, but at least they get the glory of a title. At least they can sit there on the bleachers and point to their child and say, "That's my kid!" I do all the things they do, but I won't ever reap any of the glory. All I'm doing here is helping to raise somebody elses kid.

I'll never be a mother in her eyes, all I'll ever be is Just Jess.

Decapitated Barbie Makes Me Smile

One rule that I try to follow is savoring the moments of happiness you find in each day, no matter how small. Yesterday’s moment of happiness came in a very morbid form when Girl Child cried from the back seat that Barbie’s neck was broken. She held the doll up for me to witness and I stared at the reflection of Jasmine Barbie with her head bent at an unnatural angle. Her blue unblinking eyes drilled plastic holes into my very soul. It was a chilling moment. Then I found the humor and chuckled a little.

Girl Child however, did not find the humor and she began to work up an upset over Jasmine’s broken neck. Moments later, a distraught voice from the back seat wailed: “Now her head came off!!”

This time Girl Child raises a fist holding the decapitated head of Jasmine Barbie by a clump of her hair. I was reminded of a scene from Indian Jones where the little Indian chief is raising a decapitated head to the gods in a holy sacrifice.

“I guess she just lost her head! It happens to the best of us,” I told her as I tried to stifle more giggles.

Girl Child began to cry.

“I really need my Barbie with a head!!” she wailed.

“Ok, ok, calm down,” I said soothingly. “I’ll fix it when we stop the car.”

Sobs subsided to sniffles and I started to feel a little bit bad for poor Jasmine.

Once the car was in park I turned around and saw Girl Child holding Jasmine’s head tenderly in her lap, with the body clutched tightly in her little fist.

“Okay, give her to me and I’ll perform surgery,” I said.

A quick inspection revealed that Jasmine’s neck had shattered and she was missing a chunk of throat. I picked up her head and crammed it down on top of the splintered neck as far as it would go.

Jasmine and I stared at each other again. Her neck appeared considerable shorter, almost non-existent. I smiled, quite satisfied, with my skills.

I handed the doll back to Girl Child and she also seemed quite pleased.

“Her neck is shorter,” she observed.

“Yeah well, she’s been working out at the gym and now she looks like Daddy,” I said under my breath.

“What?” Girl Child asked.

“Never mind, just be careful with her,” I said and basked in my little moment of happiness.  

The Summer That Never Was...

This year has by far brought the most challenging staffing season ever! I've fired three girls and had twice as many quit.

My favorite fire-ee was Brittany who slept in her car in our parking lot for the first hour of her shift while I made frantic phone calls to try and get her shift covered. Then she had the nerve to tell me that she "wasn't sure why i was firing her because she was quite certain the only thing she did was work her ass off for me." Huh? Are we even on the same planet??

Then my favorite quit-ee was Annie who left me a Dear Boss I Quit letter on my desk at the end of her shift. Her reason? "She was afraid that the job would interfere with her happiness." Oh, I'm sorry. I must not have gotten the memo that all jobs must make us feel happy all the time! What a fool I have been! Thanks, Annie for this enlightenment.

The turn over rate has been horrible! Last weekend I had not one, but two, girls quit! That hurt. Part of me thinks obesity has a lot to do with it. Half my applicants are overweight and cannot hack it at a physically demanding job like cleaning hotel rooms. It's hard work! I tell people its hard. I paint a very black picture for them all doom and gloom (I swear it's amazing I get anyone that wants to take the job at all after I'm done with the job description) and they all seem to sing the happy little Smurf tune right up to the time clock... Tra-la-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la! Then reality sets in. He-Ho! He-Ho! Working On the Chain Gang tune replaces the happy little sunshiney tunes they sang to themselves as they signed their W-4 forms.

Now it is August and I've been getting an average of a day off every other week. Somehow, I managed to get sick so I'm being forced to slow down a bit. Grr! Walking pneumonia in August? This could only happen to me!

Bitch, bitch, bitch! Sorry! But at least I can laugh about it!! Does anyone want to share any work related gripes with me to cheer me up???

The happiest day of the summer was celebrating Girl Child's seventh birthday where I made this amazing cake that knocked the socks off everyone. When Girl Child saw it she covered her mouth with her hands and her eyes grew bright with excitement....