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It took the divorce for me to finally get some real help because, apparently, married women don’t need as much help because they have husbands. Did no one tell these people that most husbands aren’t worth shit when it comes to the hard parts of raising kids?
Most of them seem to only be waiting for the kid to grow up so they can toss a ball to them or some other bullshit that was no use to me when I was running around behind a toddler with a newborn latched onto my tit because their father had closed himself off in the home office after being gone all day.
“I miss the kids; when are they coming home?” Eh? Who the hell is this?
“Tomorrow!” I’d already had my orgasms, had already got that one ran off from here, and was ready for bed and sleep. Why he was still here is anyone’s guess.
He'd spent most of the vacation trying to talk me into marrying him again. Each time he brought it up, I told him I had to wait until after the baby was born because I wasn’t sure if it was his or Tim’s, and even if it was his, I wasn’t sure whether I was going to choose him or Tim, seeing as Tim had never cheated on me, and I wanted better for myself not just some man to put a name on a birth certificate.
When I mentioned names and birth certificates, you’d think I scalded his cat the way he carried on. He claimed it would be confusing if all of the kids didn’t have the same name. I told him I wasn’t sure how Tim would feel about giving his kid my ex’s name if the baby turned out to be his.
Shit on a stick! He lost his shit. I think that’s why he’s up under my ass instead of going home. I may have given him the impression that since I was gone for so long with him, I’d have to make it up to Tim, so I wouldn’t be able to see him for a few days.
It was such a pleasure watching him tear himself apart with worry and trying his best to talk me into leaving Tim. I simply reminded him that when he was running around like an ass behind that twit, I never once forbade him. That shut him up for all of ten minutes.
Then he was back on his forgiveness kick. Apparently, I should forgive him for the children’s sake. I asked him why he didn’t keep his dick zipped for those same kids’ sake. I’m still waiting for an answer. Now he’s asking about the kids because he thinks he’s going to use them to talk me into letting him stay. Fine!
Have you ever noticed that you always need a vacation when you come back from one? I was more than tired. Between the pregnancy and dragging him all over Hawaii, I was beat, and since he refused to leave my house, I waited until his mom showed up with the kids the next day and left.
“Where are you going?”
“I told you, I have to spend some time with Tim. It’s your weekend with the kids anyway. Lock up when you leave and have fun.”
“When did you become such a bitch?”
“At about the same time, you became a dick.”
I didn’t wait around for his response because I wasn’t interested. If he doesn’t know what to do with his damn kids, that’s on him. I am no longer taking one hundred percent of the responsibility because I didn’t fuck myself pregnant. He was there then, he better learn how to be here now. I’m not making that mistake again.
I drove a few towns over, rented a hotel room for the weekend, and slept like the dead for the first eight hours. I woke up feeling refreshed and grabbed those little pamphlets off the nightstand to see if there was anything exciting going on this weekend. It’s been a while since I’ve had a day to myself.
I guess most first-time moms would shame me for doing this after just coming back from vacation and having only seen my kids for the hour I spent with them this morning, but they can kiss my ass. I’m with my kids more than I’m with my damn self. One weekend isn’t going to kill them. Besides, it was their dad’s weekend with them, and I brought them back enough crap to keep them busy.
I have no idea what he plans to do with them, and neither do I care. I didn’t turn my phone off, but since his texts were all just asking where I was and ordering me to come back, I ignored them all. No one was hurt. I’m surprised he didn’t think of using that, but if he did, I already knew what to tell him.
Because I was off the grid all weekend, it lent credence to my story about being with Tim, which only upped the crazy in my ex-husband. He had apparently spent the whole weekend in my house from the looks of it.
“Oh, you’re still here. Aren’t you going to be late for work?” His Mom was already downstairs with the baby while the other two had gone off to Pre-K. I’m not sure what excuse he gave her for me not being here, but I was sure he didn’t mention that I was gone.
From the things she’d said, she seemed to be under the impression that I’d gone to a yoga class, and I didn’t correct her assumption. I guess she thought the weekend bag I had in my hand held my gym clothes or something.
“Where were you?” If he clenched his teeth any harder, they’d break. He was trying not to yell so his mom wouldn’t be alerted to the fact that he was pissed. I didn’t say because we were arguing because I had no dog in this fight. If he wanted to go apeshit over an imaginary man, who am I to stop him?
“What does that have to do with you?” I walked around the room collecting his shit that he had spread out all over my master suite. I packed it all into the suitcases he’d taken on the trip and dragged them to the bedroom door. “Don’t forget these.”
“What the hell is your problem? Why can’t they stay here?”
“Because Tim wouldn’t like it.” And because I know the law on squatter’s rights in this state. If your ass spends two consecutive weeks here, you can claim residency, and that is not about to happen. I didn’t tell him that, of course; why would I when the Tim thing worked so much better?
“I don’t want him coming here.”
“And I didn’t want you fucking what’s her name, but that didn’t stop you now, did it? What’s your point?” I don’t know how I kept a straight face in the face of his anger, but it was all I could do not to laugh at his dumb ass.
He stomped his way down the stairs and I followed behind him with his luggage. “Don’t forget these.” He couldn’t say shit because his mom was there, but I could see it in his eyes. If he could wring my neck, he would, though he’s never been stupid enough to put his hands on me before, and I doubt very strongly he ever would.
“What’s going on with you two now?”
“Nothing, he’s just being salty because….” Before I could finish, he interrupted me, not wanting his mom to hear about Tim, I guess.
