Thinkin', Bitchin' & Nursin'

Archive for May, 2012

I May Be a Door Mat, But Please Stop Wiping Your Feet on Me!

I am one of the most helpful people around.  I don’t like to say no to anyone.  I don’t know how to not answer the phone and let it go to voice mail, even if I’m in the middle of a nap.  I don’t know how to tell people they cannot use my washer and dryer because I don’t have much soap left and cannot afford to buy anymore until pay day.  I don’t know how to tell people I don’t want to go to a family gathering because all I can imagine doing is putting my feet up and sleeping.  I don’t know how to tell anyone in my life how horribly, phenomenally taken advantage of I feel at times, because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.  This is a problem for me.  This causes great anxiety a lot of the time, and I now have been referred to a psychologist in order to handle my anxiety issues.  This is costing me money.  Bottom line, I don’t like ANYTHING that costs me money.

My oldest son and his wife are going to be the death of me.  And they do not get it.  I offer an inch of help, they take a mile…every single, solitary time!

Seriously, my son, his wife and my grandson lived with us all together until about a month ago.  Now, they are working things out, spending time together, and trying to get on the same page.  I give them credit for that.  But it all comes at an expense to ME!  My son still lives here.  The room he is staying in is a pig stye.  He is a pig.  I cannot stand the mess, and although I’ve asked him to clean his room and his bathroom (yes, he even has his own bathroom), it remains horribly filthy.  I cannot stand my house to be that way, even if it is rooms I do not frequent.

Between my grandson’s greasy fingers that NO ONE washes after he has eaten at the table, my house walls look atrocious to the point where I will NOT have any company any longer.  I hate this apartment and want out.  It looks like pigs live here, and I am not a pig.  Neither is my husband.  Add to that the work being done on my son’s junker out in the parking lot, and his greasy fingers, there is dirt everywhere on the walls, cupboards, door knobs, etc.!  I cannot stand it!  We need to paint.  And my husband and I do not have time.  Hell, we don’t have the money right now either!

My other son needed a car that was reliable because his job is one where he drives from place to place all day long.  Both jobs he holds require good transportation and his car was breaking down quite a bit.  So my husband and I purchased a new Kia Soul, emptying out our bank account so we would not have to finance much (there went our house down payment), gave my car (2004 Chevy Cavalier with only 74,000 miles) to my younger son so he would have decent transportation, and my younger son gave his beat up Toyota Corolla to my oldest.  He has a car, but because he is not working, his wife has it where she is staying so she has transportation to and from work.  She is making the payment on that car.  Her mother has told her to stop making payments and let it get reposessed (one less bill to pay) and drive the Corolla…the Corolla has no brakes, so I’m not sure if the mother is living in reality at this point.

Of course, the Corolla doesn’t drive right now.  My son’s wife comes over and picks him up several times a week to go fishing, get together and talk, go on picnics and the like.  All nice stuff, but when it is NECESSARY that he have a ride to the doctor’s or to school, they are telling me I have to do it because she doesn’t have gas money.  So now, my days off where I get to do whatever the fuck I want no longer exist!

Yesterday, while I thought I had a day to myself, AFTER having taken him to the doctor’s and stopping at the store two days prior to grocery shopping day to buy more lunch meat (we apparently gave a couple of sandwiches away to the wife and grandson because somehow six pounds of lunchmeat and one pound of cheese disappeared in five days), he tells me he did poorly on yet another final exam and needed to turn in missing assignments that I had not yet completed for him.  Yeah, not, “Mom, can you help me with this?”  But instead, “Mom, there are two more reports for you to write.”  Ok!

The other day, he told me his wife wanted to know if I could add a fifth line…yes, a FIFTH line…to my cell phone plan so she could have a phone.  He said she was willing to pay for it each month.  I have watched these hellions not pay their bills for over five years.  Um, NO!!  I told him it would be something like $80 a month.  I also told him that they should be saving money to get their own place.  I didn’t think they needed another phone.  She already has like 9 of those free phones from the government for someone on welfare!  I don’t know how she has managed that, but it’s ridiculous!  The phones I pay for are mine, my husband’s, and one for each of my sons.  That was supposed to be for a year until they “got on their feet.”  Yeah…I’m still paying three years later.  I am seriously contemplating dropping the phones next year when they come up for renewal.  Enough is ENOUGH!

I am still working weekends so I don’t get to spend time with my husband.  Those are his days off, and mine are during the week.  We haven’t even had sex in probably two and a half months.  Good thing we have other things in common.  I am exhausted on weekends, and he is exhausted during the week.  All we do is work and support other people!  It sucks.  Our life sucks.  In 37 more days, we leave for vacation.  We are going on an Alaskan Cruise with my mother-in-law.  I am so excited to get the fuck out of here.  But of course, the whole time I am gone, I will be worried about my babies:

We were thinking of boarding them, but since the car purchase, we are very tight on funds.  My son will be here.  He will be 26 years old in a couple of months.  He should be capable of taking care of them.  But there have been moments I have come home from being out and about after having put them in the cage early in the morning only to find at noon, they are still in the cage and he never let them out while he sat there eating breakfast getting ready to leave himself.  Like, when you get up, you have to let them out to at least pee!!  GEEZ!  It’s going to take a lot of Xanax for me to get past this and be able to leave the house and them in his care.

The topping on the cake…my son has decided if he doesn’t pass this nursing class, he will then join the National Guard in November (he has to wait that long because he had back surgery).  This is fine, but this also means he will just live here until he joins.  How long am I supposed to support his ass?  It’s expensive for someone extra to live here under my roof and not pay any bills.  I cannot afford this much longer!  My money is not going very far.  I am strapped.  And he has no income so it’s a moot point to ask him for anything!  But while he is not contributing, I told him the other day, since my daughter-in-law and grandson were here, they could stay for dinner.  This was a kind gesture on my part.  I had salad while they ate the food.  It’s not going to hurt me, I’m fat.  But the point is I gave up my portion and my husband cut his back so they could eat with us.  What do they do?  She asks me if it’s ok if she can do some laundry while she’s here.  AND she already had the basket upstairs by the washer and dryer.  Obviously, I’m a door mat and she knows it.  I bitched a little about how I didn’t have much soap left.  She said she didn’t have any soap and no money to buy any. Fine.  USE my soap.  Take my blood.  Whatever.

My son bought a metal detector last time she got paid.  A week after that, he asked to borrow $20 for gas.  I pointed out that he had just bought the metal detector, and he sheepishly smiled and said, “Yeah, and I can’t take it back or I would.”  I gave him my bank card.  He returned and said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop it at $20, so it went to $25.”  <Sigh!>

This is my life.  This is what I’ve made of it because I can’t seem to tell anyone no.

You want to hear something very strange…and hurtful actually because I have worn this shoe on my foot many times over with this person.  I had a conversation on the phone yesterday with someone who was talking to me while I was dealing with my son who never seems to care that I’m on the phone.  I ended up starting a school project while on the phone with this person and because I wasn’t saying “Uh huh” or anything else while they were talking, but was instead typing and listening, when they got to their destination, instead of saying, “I’m here, I gotta go,” they hung up on me.  I tried calling them back fifteen minutes later, but got no reply.  I thought, “Oh well, their earpiece must have died.”  Later that night, I called them back to share something with them, and when I asked what happened, they said that I was typing and not listening, so when they got to their destination, they just hung up because they knew if they told me they had to go, I wouldn’t have responded anyhow.  NICE.

To top things off, the conversation I had over the weekend with this person consisted with her talking to her children and playing with her children while I was talking, and I had to stop talking several times and wait because she wasn’t listening to me.  Hanging up on her never entered my head.  Hell, I answer the phone while napping when she calls.

Apparently, the world is made up of two different kinds of people:  those who feel entitled to uninterupted time from others, and those who give all their time whether they have it to give or not and never feel entitled to anything, including friendship, kindness or a simple nap.

I always try to be the latter…

Something needs to change here.  I hope counseling will help me deal with this shit because at times, I feel like putting a gun to my temple and pulling the fucking trigger.  Thank God for Xanax. And thank God for my husband who is always there for me. No matter what I go through, he is at the other side of the path waiting for me to hold me and comfort me and simply tell me he cares.

Hope I didn’t piss anyone off.  I have a say, too, though, and I chose to say it here.  Have a great day!


1:09 a.m. and Saving a LIfe by Blogging

Today, my son told his wife of just five years that he didn’t want to be married anymore.  This, on the eve of my poor, tired husband’s 48th birthday.  Actually, it IS his birthday right now.  I guess it’s been coming for a while.  Regardless, he came downstairs sobbing as if someone had killed themselves, and I panicked so badly I thought I’d puke!


There is NOTHING that compares to the sound of your grown son crying, let me tell you!

He said, “I told her I don’t want to do this anymore.”  He also said, “I thought this would be easy…”


Did he think it was easy when his own father walked out on me?  Did I make it look that easy?  I didn’t think it was easy and I’m sure his father didn’t either.  But this kid thought it would be easy.

They live with us.  Did I mention that?  My son, his apparently soon-to-be x-wife, and my grandson.  They have lived here now for five months.  Not only that, it’s not the first time I’ve had to support them.

Back when they first got together, my son and she sat me down and said they wanted to move out into an apartment together.  I told them what they were up against.  She had no job, and he was making just barely a buck above minimum wage.  He knew it would be tight, he had told me, but he felt it was time since they were having sex in my basement.


Yeah, my kid is honest like that.  I have probably had 100 heart attacks in my lifetime, and I just have never confirmed them with medical tests.

So they moved out.  Six months later, after a car accident, loss of her new job due to headaches that made it impossible for her to work (yeah right!), and repossession of the car in question that had my husband’s name on it as the co-signer, they moved in with us.  They weren’t married.  I should have put my foot down then.  I didn’t.  I felt bad.

Damned Catholic guilt.


It was only a few months later that we found out she was pregnant.  Of course, this fell on the wake of his previous girlfriend giving birth to his daughter, and then refusing to allow us to have anything to do with her.  He never married the girl, so he had no rights according to the State of Ohio except the right to pay child support.  I was upset about that one, so they decided to get pregnant to make up for the missing grandchild, or something like that?  I don’t really know.

I went out of my way to buy the right foods for this girl to eat because she was nauseous all the time, and felt like crap most of her pregnancy.  I had to spend extra money only to have her cry the next day about how she wanted something else.  My husband was the only one working at the time, and I was working from home making a nominal income.  Times were rough and we were looking at a possible foreclosure at the time, but we managed somehow.  I paid for her engagement ring, and paid for her wedding that her own mother and sister didn’t even attend!

During the pregnancy, she told me after she had the baby, she wanted to go live with her mom so that her mom could help her.  I thought, wait a minute!  I have to support your ass, but you are going to take the baby from me?

Again, WTF?

That never happened, but we fought a few months after the baby was born, and she ended up moving out for a few months.  Then she moved back in after apologizing.  Again, Catholic guilt and all.

They lived with us until they went and got their own house.  They “rented” off a friend of hers at her new job, but never really paid any rent.  Six months later they got kicked out.  By then, things were better at home, so we allowed them to move back in.  Then we walked away from our house, and went to a two-bedroom apartment.  They were going to go into their own place, but ended up at her mom’s because her mom needed help.


That lasted until January of this year when they had to move back in with us because her mother made it unbearable for my son.  My son, the deadbeat.  My son, the lazy ass.  My son, the one she has nothing nice to say about.  But he has held a job, and he is in full-time nursing school at this point in time.  He will be having back surgery May 10th, and will be going back to work 6-8 weeks afterwards while he still attends school.

Yep.  Her daugher can do no wrong.


Well this daugher of hers has complained about everything in my house.  She doesn’t like it because I make her pick up after herself.  She doesn’t like not having any room for her shit.  She doesn’t like that I don’t always buy the foods she wants.  She doesn’t like a lot of things about me.  She works 24 hours a week and complains after her fourth day of work how tired she is even though she knows I put in about 32 hours in 48 hours worth of time.  It doesn’t matter to her that I had surgery on my foot – the bitch complained that I complained that I had sore feet!

Anyhow, my son told her he is done being married.  She is packing her shit tonight while my husband and I sat here watching TV.  She came down crying, and I said, “Angel, I’m so sorry…”  I told her the same thing I told my son.  “You both need to make sure you do right by that baby.”  She said she knew that.

I went to bed.  While waiting for the husband to come out of the shower, I went to my phone and dialed in facebook.  I was going to send a nice note to her privately to let her know that I was once again sorry things were not working out but if she needed anything for my grandson, to let me know.  I have the money to help, and am willing, you know?

But surprise!

I have been defriended.

She no longer has a profile.

No longer will I have privy to whatever is going on with my grandson while he is not in my sight.

She cut me off.  She cut us all off.  And she is upstairs in my spare bedroom sleeping.

Kinda changes my agenda…

I am so pissed off at being taken for granted right now that I could punch her out.

I won’t be making that offer to help out.  My son can let me know if his son needs anything.

I won’t be doing anything to help her out at all.  She burned that bridge when she hit the delete button.

And that’s a shame because she makes minimum wage for 24 hours a week.  My son isn’t working, so there’s no child support to be had.  And her mom is making only enough from her workman’s comp claim to pay the rent.

I am a nurse.  I make a lot of money. And I care genuinely for people.  For the first time in my life, I have a person I no longer give one shit about.

That’s why I’m down here blogging.  I’m saving a life.  If I weren’t here, I would be up there wringing her ungrateful, advantage-taking neck.

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