From starting the week with spilled milk on Monday, an entire cupful, in the front seat of my car (yes it smells amazing now) to someone very close to me being hospitalized (while very far away), my son experiencing heartache at the hands of his (fucking) father (more on that in another blog), my sweet two year old niece needing her first stitches… just to name a few… heavy sigh, this mama needs a drink!
On Monday, after the spilled milk incident, I learned that someone very close to me was hospitalized over the weekend. I won’t name them here until I know if I can, for their own privacy, but it was not the kind of call you are ever prepared for. “It’s not looking good” and then your heart falls to pieces. It is scary, and awful. As you try and make sense of things, with very few answers and know that you’re fairly helpless because of distance, all I could do was cry. And pray. And then try to understand, and then cry some more. Throughout the week there has been progress and things are looking more positive, but there is a tremendous way to go. Along with the progress are some admissions and truths that compound the sad reality of the situation. There is no way to be ready for these things, and living in fear of them is pointless, but it is a sure reminder to live fully, and be present with people you love, and tell them… even when you have a zillion other things going on.
Also on Monday, my son had an appointment with an oral surgeon. At sixteen his wisdom teeth are already coming in. And if their name has any significance, it makes total sense. This kid is far and away better at life that I could have dreamed of being, even just ten years ago, and he still has so much ahead of him. His biggest fear about the surgery is me filming and posting him in the drunken-like state, and he should be… as a parent it’s not only hilarious (of course once they are okay) but also a little ammunition to use at will. But for me, I immediately have the pressure of figuring out how I am going to pay for it. You see his father has been mostly absent all of his life, by choice. The current arrears on our child support case is $47,723. Insert massive gasp. But before you go on with “how is that possible? why isn’t he in jail?” let me finish this paragraph. And the end of that is, our insurance is horrendous and on a single mamas budget, things are tight. Like most North Americans, we take what we have available to us, and mine happens to be a high deductible PPO with a $6,000 deductible. If you don’t know what that is, be grateful, it basically means that we have to pay 100% of the medical fees until that massive deductible is met. Like I said, horrendous… I pay $180 bi weekly (for medical only, not including dental or vision) to then pay all of the medical bills up to the $6000 deductible, and then they kick in around 80% after that. Insert ALL of the eye rolls here. Still I am grateful for my income, because it supports us enough to live.
Now on to my ex-husband, my sons father. I am going to detail this story in another post, but the cliff notes is that he opted out a long time ago. He hasn’t seen our son in years, and clearly has not been financially supportive either (reference 47k in arrears). He does not live here, and a few years ago a small amount started being sent in to the division of child support (by his in-laws, I believe). I have NEVER technically gone after him, but in court one time with DCSE, a judge said as long as he was paying something he would be okay, and looked right at me explaining that the jails are overfilled with “real criminals”. After a few months of trying with no results, I decided I would take all of the energy I was wasting on trying to get him to be a part of our sons life, and redirect it in to making our life, without his input, better. I work hard to pay for everything alone, having up to 3 jobs at a time. Losing the efforts toward the negativity allowed us to work better together and in a more positive way. So no, I do not actively pursue him keeping up with his own damn responsibilities, I let whatever the DCSE and the courts do, be what it is. The damage he has done to my son by not being present is horrible, and a much more important than money. Watching him suffer, the pain he endures, if I could take it all for him I would do it a million times over without complaining. His fathers absence will make my son a better husband and father, and I can see it already. So my focus is not in not letting him experience it, but rather to help him learn how to cope and survive it.
Old friendships lost, trying to reconnect/resume. My sweet warrior of a niece getting her first stitches. My car smelling putrid. Memories of abusive times being present, and old fears rearing their ugly heads. The house AC needing a service because its smell is not much better than the car. Someone who aided in life’s harshness wanting to give advice on how to fix it. Work. (Yes that is a one worded sentence for effect.) Bills. (Same.) Friends suffering very sad losses and trying times. The worst. passive. aggressive. people ever. Anxiety and panic attacks coupled with being firmly on the team-no-sleep bench. Etc. Etc. Etc. It all is making me so ready for this hundred day week to be over. And my plan is to send it off with a dinner date with my boy, followed by copious amounts of bourbon!
I am not a complainer, in fact most people in my life don’t even know the half of this, but I am throwing up the white flag this week. I have learned over the years since my toxic, and very abusive relationship, that to experience any emotion, you have to be open to them all. We cannot cherry pick just the good ones. Clearly this week is life’s way of throwing me in to the deep-end and yelling “oh you want the feels do ya?! Well here ya go! Swim!”
Good thing I have some cute suits!
Cheers to Friday y’all!
P.S. It is Memorial Day weekend and I realize this rant pales in comparison to the price some have paid. So I digress, and will suck it up. I have always had and will always continue to have the utmost respect and gratitude for the men and women who defend our freedoms, and I send out all kinds of love to the families of those who paid the ultimate price for this country. Freedom is not free. It is only because of the brave warriors who put their life on the line for us all. They are the real heroes.