November 23rd, 2009

He’s being an ass.  He doesn’t think so, but I think so.  It’s all perception anyway, and this is my reality, regardless of how he sees it.

So, what should I think or how should I take it if he got a new cell phone and won’t give me his new number?  Never mind the part about not telling me, so that I get to continue paying his $100/month service plus there will be a $175 cancellation fee.  Nice move, Mister Communication Skills.  His job changed hands and he won’t give me his new email address either.  He did give me his new work number, but what good does that do me if there’s any reason to reach him while he’s not working?  He won’t tell me where he’s staying either.

Ass.

He was supposed to go to a parenting seminar, ordered by the state in all divorce cases, on Friday.  But did he go?  No.  He had things to do he said.  He said he rescheduled.  I hope he was telling the truth.  I don’t know what happens if you don’t fulfill your court mandated obligations, but I’m sure it’s not particularly pleasant.  He doesn’t seem to think it matters much.  Or something.  Maybe he thinks he’s above the law.

Ass.

Yesterday he showed up to winterize the boat.  I thought he’d do it himself, but he said something about taking it to a friend.  I wanted to go to the cable store to get the account switched to my name, since it’s in his name, and asked if we could do that.  He said he had to get going because his friend had somewhere he had to be at 3.  Since it was after noon, I thought that was pushing it for getting it done, even if they were super efficient.  Meanwhile, I begged him to load the generator in the van for me so that I could return it, since he’s refusing to do anything for me any more.  He won’t install it.  He won’t winterize the sprinklers.  He won’t do anything.  He says, ‘You wanted to be single.  You can hire out.’

Ass.

Am I right?  Anyhow, I figured I’d better return it while I could, but it turns out it had a 30 day return policy and this was day 40.  Nice.  I’m stuck with $1400 store credit for Home Depot.  Maybe I’ll get a granite slab for my island counter.  It was a challenge returning the electrical box as well.  That was $300 and he’d gotten the display, so it was marked down.  The store didn’t want to take it back because it was used (as THEIR display) and it claimed to have all parts there, but when they looked it over, they said it was missing three things and that I’d have to take it back to the store where he got it, 30 miles away.  Meanwhile, I’m holding a tired and cranky LB and trying to keep my ADD BB within reach, and insisting that all the parts that it came with are there.  Back and forth and forth and back, and finally I asked which parts are missing, and they described them, and I said, let’s look in the boxes.  Lo and behold, eventually, I accounted for all the parts.  And they still wanted me to take it back to the other store but I begged the man, and he could see I was on the verge of tears, so he authorized the return and I got my $300 back.  Meanwhile, I’m not sure how my blood pressure fared.  It’s so hard not to voice my frustrations or keep my composure in front of the kids, when I want to SOB and just wail it out because the stress is so….   ….stressful.

Back home, I thought he’d be there.  The cable store closed at 5, so I gave him until 4:30, but started calling around 3:30.  Finally he called me back around 4:30 and had no intention of returning home.  He had dropped the boat off and gone on with his day.  Without so much as a word, when he knew what I wanted to do.  Yet somehow he claimed that he didn’t know I wanted to do that.  So frustrating.  And I had things I needed to do as well, so I ended up driving my tired kids on another errand, cutting into their dinner and bed times and totally messing up their schedule.  Such a frazzled day.  Even so, I sort of expected he might return at some point to put the boat back, but he never did.  When he did call, I finally said to him, ‘You know you’re being an ass, don’t you?’, to which he actually sounded surprised. ‘No!’  Blah blah blah, blah blah blah, and when I said goodbye, he hung up.  Without a goodbye.  How rude.

Ass.

I spent the evening reclaiming my bedroom and bathroom.  I removed all his stuff and put it in his office.  I made more room for LB’s crib, sorted LB’s clothes, rearranged to make things a bit more baby safe near the bed.  LB likes to play ‘run away’ on the bed and crawls off as fast as he can, stops, turns and sits, but he gets SO CLOSE to the edge that it practically makes my heart stop.  I dread him falling, so at least now there are no sharp corners in falling proximity.  It felt good and liberating to have my own bedroom.

Today I had more errands to run.  I noticed the boat house (a 10’x20′ aluminum/tarp structure) had shifted somewhat, and hoped he’d return while I was out and resecure everything.  Imagine the horror of returning home, turning the corner into our culdesac to see the boat house had blown across the front yard and had lodged in and against a tree.  It looked like it must have tumbled end over end completely.  Thank God it didn’t blow into the street or damage any body else’s cars or property.  That was around 4:30.  I called, and called, and called.  I called the new work number, the discarded iPhone number and sent email.  No returns of any kind.  Since it wasn’t blowing any further, being stuck for the time being in a tree, I semi-calmly proceeded to feed the children, bathe the children, put on a movie for BB while I put LB to bed.  8:30, still no word.  So what did I do?  I took the blessed thing apart.  Piece by stinking piece.  Most pieces snapped together, but two parts were bolted, and I couldn’t for the life of me find an allen wrench in the chaos of his garage clutter.  I had to leave them in place, and in the end, one support rod crushed under pressure.  I’m sure he’ll have something unkind to say about that.  But I took care of it.  I took it all down and put all the parts in the utility trailer and even strapped them down so they wouldn’t blow away.

I am woman, hear me roar.

And I am SO PISSED OFF.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 23rd, 2009 at 12:26 AM and is filed under bellyaching, divorce, marriage. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

7 Responses to “hear me roar”

Aunty Evil Says:

Get on ebay and sell the bloody thing for a dollar.

And what are you supposed to do if you need him in an emergency?

Hang in there. These things are never pretty.

You’ll be ok. It’s his loss, you have the boys.

Stomper Girl Says:

He’s being worse than an ass. I think he’s strayed into selfish bastard territory personally! Good luck darl. Don’t play him at his game because he’s making up the rules as he goes along. Walk your own path (if you can, easy for me to say)

love Cx

Leslie Says:

You are getting mired in this awful stuff. DIVORCE HIM MENTALLY. If you can’t do that yet, behave like you’re doing it until your brain gets the message. His clothes? What are you moving them to another room you use for? Are you his valet? Got a garage? Got a box for the front porch? Give him a deadline and then use the dumpster.

You don’t need his phone #, you are not going to be calling him or taking his calls. If you are paying the phone bill — if it’s in your name — shut down his numbers. Talk with the company about other people (estranged spouses, they’ve been there before) making charges YOU DID NOT AUTHORIZE. If the phone bill is in his name, let it go. Start a new account in your name, put a new phone on there and don’t give him the #. Any account of yours that he has access to needs a call and a discussion with customer service, authorizing only you to make any changes. You MUST not be paying his phone bill, you’ll hate yourself for it.

Everyone of these events takes a piece out of you. A piece out of you hurts your boys.

When this sort of thing happened to me I asked my shrink WHY is he torturing me? Why is he hurting the kids? And shrink said, he needs a villain, it needs to be you. Otherwise he will have to face what he is doing.

So don’t help him turn you into the villian by any neurotic behavior on your end. You need to be a steely eyed single mom. CUT the ties. When this is all over and he comes crawling back about visitation do whatever makes good sense for the boys. Until then, get yourself to a lawyer.

It gets better. It really does.

Leslie Says:

Re-reading my earlier comment, I sound very harsh. Don’t think for a second I don’t know about the pain, anguish, rage and other interesting emotions that go with this territory. I just want you to toughen up and stay strong. I’ll tell you a diabolical trick I used during my similar travail that somehow cheered me up a little every time I used it: whenever he would call, he would say, “Hi.” And I would respond something like– “Sorry, hi…who?” And just NEVER admit I recognized his voice. Not overdone, just pause, clearly confused as to who was calling… And he, of course, would have to identify himself. “This is John.” And he never caught on. There you go, I hope that makes up for the stern tone of my earlier comment. Which I stand by, 100%. (I’m just a reader who enjoys your blog, thank you for it.)

thebluemoongirl Says:

Oh Sue. I’m so sorry. i wish I lived closer and could help you!

I’m with Aunty, sell the crap for a $1. Or Craigslist it saying it will be out front for whoever wants to take it. Free. 😉

It’s definitely his loss. He will be so lost in acting like a complete jackass that he misses them.

BTW, I have learned a neat new trick for entertaining the small ones. I keep a package of those crackers with cheese or peanut butter in them in my bag. Handy to whip out in a pinch when they’re hungry, tired, and totally over it. In fact, they came in handy today when waiting at the pharmacy for 900 million years… Maybe something like that would work for your boys?

Good luck and know that I’m hugging you from here.

mary Says:

Have been offline for a while and now catching up.

Bugger bugger and damn and bugger.

HE IS A COMPLETE ASS.

And I am sending you much love and courage across the seas.

xxx

suse Says:

He’s an ass.

And you’re worth a gazillion of him.

x