Thinkin', Bitchin' & Nursin'

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!

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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…”

WTF?  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.

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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.

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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.

<cough-cheat-the-system-cough-cough>

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.

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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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Comments on: "1:09 a.m. and Saving a LIfe by Blogging" (1)

  1. Eek!

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