I landed on the duct-taped parts

This entry is part 8 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

I am not the right woman for him.

I refuse to discuss marriage.

I am shoving my children down his throat.

I am just using him for sex.

I am under my mama’s thumb (and after her money).

I let That House come between us.

I wouldn’t have nothin’ if it weren’t for my Daddy dying. HE worked for it all.

I’m looking for a father for my kids, not a relationship.

The texts keep coming. I flipped the bitchswitch, the cold-as-ice, the “there’s no way in hell I’d speak to you again” mode as soon as he accused me of shoving my children down his throat. I’m already a single mom – I already do it all alone. I’d rather do it alone than with a jackass any day of the week. He asks, textingly, if I miss him. I reply that it doesn’t matter if I miss him or not, he’s not the man for me or my children.

Weeks go by, and I call/text. I need to know when/if he is going to pay his portion of the phone bill. He goes off on a tangent.

His wife, his soon-to-be-ex, his friend stops by and speaks to my manager at work. Leaves a letter for me with him, telling me to leave “her husband” alone. No calling, no texting. He’s in my past, it’d be best to leave him there. Complete with a copy of NC’s “criminal conversation” law. No problem – I call the phone company and have service to that line interrupted. I will not be responsible for a phone bill when I’m “not allowed” to call or text that line.

His parents come in the store, and I ask if he’d reconciled with her. They look at me like I’ve grown horns. I showed them the letter, and how it sounds as if they are back together. They say they’ll take care of it, and we go our separate ways.

Dear Jennifer:

Let’s talk about your website okay? Specifically, your ancient link to Mama Drama. They moved from my servers waaaay the hell back in 2005, and I stopped providing admin services for them in June of 2006.

Generally speaking, if you’re going to provide links, you go through the trouble of validating them. Even better would be a contact form so I didn’t have to publicly announce that you have three year old links on your page (such as it is).

Sincerely,

Emily

Big, Bigger, Biggest

Lorelle issued a Blog Challenge: Blog About Being Big – aka Successful. Specifically, to write about a moment when I felt “big”, or to write “what it would look like if I were big”.

When I first read her post yesterday, I was all prepared to pick and choose between conquering anxiety attacks, restarting college as an adult, being a single mom to three, writing this blog, being promoted at work, losing weight, and teaching computer skills classes. Dating again (though I daresay that hasn’t been as successful as I’d like). All perfectly good examples of “when I felt big”.

Then I went to look at apartments with The Teen ™ and got the great joy of hearing about how I need a new vehicle (I really do), she needs new clothes (what teen doesn’t?), and I need to find her a job so she can start saving up for her own car (she can find her own damn job). And how she’s going to live her life differently so she doesn’t have to live the way I do. In my daughter’s eyes, I’m a hard-done-by loser. (She wouldn’t necessarily use the word “loser” though).

After that wonderfully uplifting discussion, I got to come home and listen to My Sainted Mother. Why in the WORLD would I want to live in an apartment when I can live in her Doublewide Paradise.

(Yes, I’m serious.)

And then I felt really really small and alone. And the see-saw started. Quitting school would meet my daughter’s immediate need for a vehicle “she can be seen in” and a house “she can invite people to”. Oh, and we can’t forget “shopping at the Mall!” Quitting school is not an option; I categorically refuse to be a retail and/or pink-collar zombie again. I don’t want to live with my parents anymore, but if I moved out I would have to add regular, frequent visits to check up on them. How would we handle scheduling? We, hell. How am *I* supposed to fit all that in?

And yet, right now, I feel more BIG than I ever have before. School is challenging and wonderful, work is routine but enjoyable. The Folks ™ and I have established a mostly-functional relationship. My children are happy and healthy (shallow teen-living aside). Writing is only more difficult because I’m waiting for that whole “time to write” thing to resolve itself.

What would it look like if I were BIG? Exactly the same as it does now, only with a partner and a house with in-law quarters 1/2 acre away. Oh, and I’d be an at-home mom again.

Oh now that was just what I needed.

A corner table at Saffron Indian Cuisine, my friend Michele and HER friend (who will remain nameless since I know it’s OK to talk about Michele in my blawwwwwg but I forgot to ask our Third Party of the Evening).

My tummy, she is happy. The staff of the restaurant was attentive but not overtly so, and we had a raucous conversation. Well, except for the part where it seemed like hours before they came to pick up the check.

Affirmed: I’m on an oil-covered slip’n'slide straight to hell.

Acknowledged: I’m a baaaaaaad influence. $250/hr to start, that’s all I’m sayin’.

I’m not supposed to blog a good 2/3 of our conversation. Apparently, Michele’s Invisible Friend Jesus gets upset when she’s not behaving as she should be.

Michele didn’t believe me when I said I was as wide as I was tall once upon a time. This Feb 2007 post has a smidge of photographic proof. (Like you can be a smidge of anything when that voluptuously pregnant!!!)

Also, it’s with sincere regret that I inform you ladies that you’re not the first members of my fanclub. Can you guess who it is from this January 2004 post?

Hm. What else did we talk about that I promised links for? I can’t remember now…

****Added later:

The Tag Suggest Thing for WordPress is here.

I also found another “hugely pregnant” picture. This one was taken 3 days before Joe was born. (Take a look at my foot – it’s the only place where it’s obvious that I was having fluid retention issues.) (Apologies to the regular readers who remember this pic. Michele didn’t.)

Hugely Pregnant