The facts of life…

It’s not that I don’t love my Blog.  It’s not even that I don’t need my Blog.  I do; now more than ever!  But circumstances change and with that change, comes a readjustment of life.

About now, you’re probably thinking ‘what the Hell is she talking about...?’

Well it is simple really.  We moved into a bigger house and now every moment of my day seems to be consumed with cleaning.  And most of the time, I don’t even get up stairs until the weekend!

Suddenly there are 4 people in the house.  That means I’m washing nonstop; cleaning up, putting stuff away – it’s never ending.  That isn’t even taking into account that all routine has flown out the window.  The kid has music at 7.30 am every morning.  Then every night there is various sport and/or activities. 

Before we moved, the Squeeze and I were in the door by 4.45 pm, now he doesn’t get in the door until 7.30-8 every night.  Meals are on the fly, cleaning has taken on the ‘humming bird approach’ – swoop in to clean a little before moving on to the next disaster.

And the Kid takes after the Squeeze – no matter how many times I say “can you push the chair back in when you finish..?” they sit at the table, scoff down breakfast – then stand up and walk away.  WTF?  How fricking hard is it to push the chair back in?  Why can’t they get it through their fat heads that things should be left as they found it?  It is such a small ask!

After a week or two following the move, the girl decided to remove the “press the button” sign from the upstairs toilet.  I mean he had worked it out that in this house, we don’t want to shuffle to the loo in the morning, only to look down into a sea of someone else’s pee.  It’s disgusting.  Right..?  Wrong.  After two days, the sign went back up.

Yes, pushing the chair back in is minor.  But if I have to run around every day pushing the chairs back in, pressing the loo button… or washing the toothpaste spit from the sink because he has been raised to be selfish and slovenly to can’t actually think about rinsing it off after he spits in to it – instead he chooses to leave it to dry for the day so that the person who does clean it, spends ten times longer doing it.

And through all of the joy that is my new life; the moron parents that are responsible for this socially inept, non-viable teenager - the Harridan and the Squeeze, can’t work out why their little darling is failing school.

Ummm hey.  Idiot.   Are you really that stupid..?  He is failing because:

1. He gets no time to do homework – because he is going to write music scores for motion pictures!!!!  So who needs real classes?
2. He is lazy and disinterested so won’t do homework (and why would he need to?  He is going to write music scores for motion pictures!!!!)
3. TheSqueeze is easily fooled and has no authority (he can say “move it” 23 times and be completely ignored! – to the point where the kid doesn’t even look up from his phone to acknowledge him! [And too damned moodley to just walk over, snatch the fricking phone from his hand and say “kid.  Get ready!  You can have your phone back when we are in the car!” like any normal person would!

Yesterday, we had a twitter of teenage surliness and defiance.  Oh the joy.  I am NOT putting up with that.  No way.  I will not be ignored in my own house.  I don't teenage defiance. 

I’m away this week.  By myself.  Log fires and long beach walks.  Not a kid or mess in sight!  I can’t wait because the Squeeze (as anticipated) has slipped into some weird father/16 yo place - so my life is sans best friend and sans romance – which only serves to make me wonder why the hell I am here.

And I find myself repeatedly asking “when is the lease up…?”  And I already know that when it is, if the kid is staying on, I’m moving out to my own place of clean, neat and stress free.  We can go back to dating.

More Room. Just MORE Mess.

I've decided moving into a bigger house with more room; more people - will probably kill me.

Living a "Brady Bunch" life was never on my agenda.  It still isn't.  I'm not keen on it.  Don't like it.

I am counting down the hours until the kid leaves school and shoo's off to a new life.  The girl won't be far behind him.  Of course she is currently saving to go to Europe and with a UK passport, she can stay and work over there for a while.  Leaving me in a life of peace.

But none of that is going to happen overnight.  The kid doesn't actually do any home work and his idiot father is living in some delusional world where when the kid slinks off to his room with the Squeeze's laptop for the night - he is actually doing homework!  Did homework for hours!!!  Look at what I did!  I don't have trouble with him doing his homework!  

No... Of course he doesn't.  Well not until I print out the history of his laptop's browser that showed the kids homework consisted of 5 hours of internet surfing movies, TV shows and other 15 yo brainless crap.  Yeah.  Look what you did.  Fool.

So in the wash up, it is with heavy heart that I realise this kid won't finish school for at least another 23 years.

And this house is too damned big for me to get all the way around it every day; cleaning up the array of crap that is dropped.

The Squeeze has dragged his bevy of bedside bullshit with us.  More room is not put to use by folding clothes and putting them away.  It wouldn't matter if we had a bedroom the size of the MCG.  He would still drop... Move on... Drop.  Then ask me the next day "have you seen this...."  Common sense = put crap away and you will always be able to find it.

  

The kid came packed in typical style. Mummy sent him off to live with dad clasping a black garbage bag with the bare minimum of reeking clothes.

So what does a clean freak do in a house full of pigs..?

Kills herself working. 

In two weeks I'm off to the coast for a week.   On my own.   No mess.   Just me. 

Rules and Lists

I decided that since the Harridan was fond of sending her tirades via bullet point and orders; I would go with the flow and type up a list of rules for the Kid on the days he is at our place.  I tried to weave some serious messages into humour (which is my usual way) so this is what will await him on the desk tonight when he gets home…  he he

Casa Glen Waverley Rules

Liar Liar Pants on Fire Rule:

Everyone has a different idea on raising kids.  Happy for you to lie your head off over in Velvet Land; but we don’t do lying here.  It creates angst, upset and hurts a lot of people – for no reason really, as lies are always discovered.  If instructed by anyone to lie, you should tell them to take a hike.

Blabber Face Rule:

I wouldn’t approve of lying to your mother; nor do I believe anyone should be told “not to tell” about their general day to day life.   It smacks of psycho… Having said that, just being a blabber and offering up info isn’t really called for either.  Our house is our house/business.  Velvet Land is your mother's business.

Stinkypoo Rule:

Kid.  Don’t care if your hair is as fluffy as a newly hatched duck.  You WILL wash your hair at the very least – each Monday night.  Upping the ante on deodorant, clothes washing and teeth brushing may lift your chances with the ladies also.

Snuffout Rule:

Eat or drink anywhere upstairs and you will be moved to the cupboard under the stairs.

Snipping Fingers Rule

My piano = My piano.  It’s not open slather.  It’s mine.  I wouldn’t go and grab your sax.  I don’t want anyone else playing my piano.  I know… I know… that isn’t how your parents are – but everyone on the planet is not like your parents (thank God) and that’s what makes the world go around.  Learn to live with it.  Piano = Mine = Don't Touch. 

The Whinylittlebitch Rule:

Bedtime is at 9.30 pm.  No ifs.  No buts.  No technology.  Whining and causing a ruckus won’t change that fact; it will only annoy the rest of the house (and maybe make bed time earlier to compensate for the whiny phase of the bed time saga).  Whinylittlebitch rule has another layer to it - consideration.  I know you're an only child most of the time while in Velvet Land; but here, there are others in the house.  The television roaring followed by a whiny saga right outside the girls bedroom is called "inconsideration".  

Spare Room Bits and Bobs Rule:

The Room Part:  On Monday night until Friday morning; it’s your room - your doona/pillows and assorted boy crap.   Just try to keep it relatively clean and leave the door open where possible (to air out)    

The Spare Part:  On Friday morning after you depart for school – all the way until Monday evening when you get home from school – it is the spare room.  Your doona & pillows will slink away.  Spares will come out. That isn’t a reflection on you; it is the reality that I have children too; family too.  Friends. Any of whom I would like to have a room to come and stay.   Having days bedded down, allows for better planning – for everyone.  (since I'm the only "planner", I guess it is for me but too bad...)

The reality:  Unlike the email and comments that have passed by lately; this is not about you.  It isn’t that your dad can’t be bothered or doesn’t want.  Doesn’t have time to, or is selfish.  He is none of those things.  It’s about living in a grown up world where life is not just about you, or your father… Or the Harridan [I did call her by her name here, I just changed it to protect the psychotic].  It’s called compromise.   I want time for me and The Squeeze; and me and mine.

- I don't think it's so bad, but he'll probably take it home and show mummy.....

Super Freak...

All has been quiet on the Blog front.  I’ve run my ass off with moving house; and it has taken me forever.  Unusual really since I’m the most organised person on the planet.  However, nothing appears to have settled to where it should be.  I’m tired.  Everything about me is neglected – most of all, my hands - they are so try they are like husks hanging on the ends of my arms!  Packing, cleaning and lugging stuff around is seriously bad news for nails.

My piano was tuned yesterday yet needs more work.  This means my bargain beauty isn’t quite the bargain it was!  Still, I’m pretty sure the loose keys could have been caused by the reverberating clunk I heard when the removalists got it off the truck, but I can’t be sure.  At least it is now in tune.

So I’ve had limited time to blog and where once I would have done it when I got to work, I’m in a make shift shared environment at the moment, so on my best behaviour.   This however, doesn’t mean the Snake Lezzo from Velvet Land hasn’t given me fodder…

I’ll admit; I’ve disliked her from the first time she issued orders in front of me.  The dislike grew the first time we had a “shared” kid birthday lunch – where she ordered things left right and centre and then hefted her ass off a chair and waddled out, leaving the Squeeze to pay the bill.  That gave me a good insight into the person she was.

Still, I since have come to the conclusion that she is by far, one of the ugliest people I’ve ever had the misfortune to have forced upon me.  This has nothing to do with looks, as I’m sure she does well in those hillbilly lesbian circles. 

She is however, a vitriolic bitch.  Bitter to the very end.  And these traits are rolled up in the web of self-delusion.

Remembering that we have moved houses – and that has cost us a fortune…  That we have moved further out and have a bigger house – which basically means more work for me – all because she wanted to fob her own kid off to live with us.

This caused me utter astonishment really.   Children are not my favourite pastime – not even my own most of the time!  Still, I’d have poked anyone’s eye out with a red hot poker if they’d have even suggested someone else would be raising my child.  Let alone someone I dislike who lives with my ex.

And yet here she is, handing him over to us.  He will effectively live with us through the week and go back to her on weekends – and she is complaining about that.  Why would he want to go to velvet land every weekend?  You are a lousy father to fob him off like that (wtf???  Yeah, delusional!)

So we have moved mountains to take over rearing this teenager – and believe me, it’s NOT something I want to do.   Mine are reared.  Done.  She was the silly old cow breeding in her 40’s – and yet here I am; paying the price.

And for turning our world on it’s ear…?

This is the type of utterly ridiculous emails/texts/calls the Squeeze gets….

[Yes folks – this is a direct cut and paste – only the names are changed…]  

 ________________________________________________________________________________

Changes to Kid' home/house situation is a big move for Kid.

Here are the conditions, information and expectations that you would not discuss

1. Kid is to have his epipen on him at all times (eg in his school bag for school/in his soccer bag for soccer)  

2. Kid is not to spend his weekends doing homework. I understand that some work can hang over from the week but he is not to spend whole weekend sorting out what needs to be done etc It can build up and cause him unneccessary extra stress. His yr 11 subject needs extra attention with online classes and constant work due. But also he is struggling with French and is slow to submit things To avoid confusion and to enable him to be organised and to feel on top of things in his busy life, Kid is to carry his school diary with him always (to and fro velvet land & Glen Waverly) with details of work to be submitted/work completed. This diary will serve as means of communication. Parents will need to read/write in it regularly

3. You have not had Kid living with you during the school week for 5 yrs. This will require adjustment on your part and it is expected that you will be on top of this -thinking ahead for his school, work and soccer needs, uniform etc (For starters you have not thought ahead and discussed uniform requirements and his soccer gear for this week EG Tomorrow Kid needs to wear sport uniform. Do you have his school uniform for Tuesday?)  Living in two homes is stressful enough. Dont make him more anxious by not having things ready for him. And Velvetland is a long way for you to pick up forgotten items eg school shoes/shin guards etc.   

4. Kid is not to take drugs unless HE NEEDS them. Read up on the abuse and misuse of medications. And if, for example Kid' sneeze causes dangerous consequences for people living in same house, find a healthy alternative solution ie remove him

5. You will communicate with me about all school information and correspondance and situations concerning Kid.(email if your ego is still having trouble with talking to me in person) 

6. Respect Kid' wishes. I repeat - Kid does not want to be in the middle and does not like his parents speaking through him

7., Kid is not to be left late waiting for you to pick him up. All pick up arrangements will be sorted out ahead of time and thought through at the start of each week Kid' Safety is your top priority

8. And Kid walking from Ringwood Station (one of the most roughest stations in Victoria) to Soccer ground in the dark on his own is not an option!

9.  Arrangements for getting his bike to and from work will be arranged ahead of time (not last minute) making sure his lights and helmet and safety backpack are with him each time and are in good working order

10. Kid needs to be contactable at all times. Ensure that his phone is fully charged and with him at all times

11. Kid is not to take technology to bed with him. He is to charge all devices in separate room from where he sleeps

12. Kid is to have good /early sleeping habits

13. Preparation for France will need attention. Overseas banking, Phone options etc need to be organized

14. Finalizing of Work Experience placement is overdue

15. There is a detention notice that I received on the weekend that talks about an impending "suspension" that will need to be discussed and dealt with

16. Any last minute issues/arrangements concerning Kid that are thrown into the mix without a clear, prior and  two sided discussion will NOT be considered.

Kid' SAFETY, his HEALTH and HAPPINESS are his parents primary concern and have absolutely NOTHING to do with how each parent regards/disregards the other

Oh my.   Utterly astounding what happens in the mind of a narcissist.

Your Balls

Last weekend was the first weekend that the Harridan was supposed to have the kid.

Instead, she attempted to fob him off.  I put my foot down, mainly because I don't want to give in and have the kid here full time.  I have a life and a job - we have a 3 bedroom house and I want weekends for my children and family.

And let's face it, having the kid is no picnic.  There is band practice at 7.30 am 3 days a week.  Soccer at nights.  The argument over homework...  That isn't the life I went for.  I did that with my own - years ago.

So I agreed to specific times.  Monday after school, he comes home to us.  Friday, he goes off to school and we don't see him again until Monday evening.  She is is mother after all, and you'd think she would want to spend some time with him.  For myself, I'd have stabbed someone in the eye, rather than let them raise my kid.  Not so the Harridan.  Who although loves to spout the mantra "everything I do is for the kid" - she actually doesn't do anything at all.

The kid is on a music trip this weekend and gets back to the school about 11.30 tonight.

Tonight = Sunday - Harridan night.

But of course, she wanted our time to start early. Pick up the kid at midnight, then take him to some soccer tryout tomorrow before school.

With the lies the bitch threw at as last weekend singing loudly in my ear - this was NOT happening.

Sorry.  As agreed - anything that doesn't fall from Monday to Friday is hers.  She can drive down at get him and take him in the morning.

Instead, we got the phone calls, texts and then abuse about the lack of balls - where the Squeeze is supposed to say "fuck it he's my son and he stays when I want him to stay!"

Umm yeah bitch.  Not when I'm paying half the fricking rent - no.  That's not happening!!!!!!!