So I am thinking about applying to a doctoral level educational program to either go into straight administration or special education research and administration.
Part of it is because I never feel like I actually know enough and part of it is pure ego and selfishness. I think I'm stuck where I am. I have applied to move out of special ed and especially out of co-teaching for three years and for three years I've had great interview experiences and then not been offered a job. I'm beginning to think that my current level of education and experience make me too expensive to hire. If I were applying for administrative positions, I'm still expensive, but not so much more than anyone else applying for the job.
If I had a doctoral degree, I could do anything from run the whole organization to assist. Or I could keep my current position. (They'd have to offer me a raise with additional education, but they can't fire me for going out and getting smarter).
I'd also have an opportunity to examine the systems in place and try to make them better, at least while I was working on research projects. To be able to go into these poor, rural communities with high levels of children labeled at disabled and see how the needs of these families can be better served, how these kids can be better served, is exciting to me. A lot of work has been done in urban areas with all service schools that were made the center of the entire community, offering three meals, medical checkups, serving as clothing and pantries; the results were very exciting. I'd like to investigate if similar results would happen in a rural setting.
I'd like to work on making things better for co-teaching. Right now it blows. Veteran gen ed teachers can completely block the coteacher's ability to accomplish much in "their" classroom. If I were in high level administration, I couldn't force anyone to do anything, but I could do a better job of making sure that the troops on the ground knew what was expected, that they were being watched, what legal requirements must be met when serving disabled and disadvantaged students.
I could go into straight research. More needs to be done with secondary education of students with mild disabilities. Realistic transition services need to be more emphasized and there needs to be significant time and funding applied to making sure this population is ready for the "real world". Too many aren't. Too many end up drawing a government check for life.
There are huge down sides too. Like the money it would take. I'm already $100,000 in debt to student loans. Its such a crazy high number I don't even look at it. I'm a little exhausted of my current program, which I will finish this fall (YAY!) But I think part of that exhaustion is the fact that the program was poorly designed with three complete practicums that are identical in tasks required, just different ages of kids involved. Since I started, the university has redesigned it. They won't let me change to the new program, if they would, I'd be finished.
I'm thinking long term here. Finish this fall with the elementary level practicum. Talk with my direct supervisor, who is the sweetest man, about my thoughts and see what he thinks. Spend the next year, maybe two, seeking out opportunities to be a leader in my current position and polishing up my resume and networking with my local administrators. If I still want to go for this in a year, or two, I will. If I don't, then I will have made buddies with the admins, who tend to intimidate me. (I should probably get over that, huh?)
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Uninspired
It is sad, but true. I have had less and less desire to write lately. I don't know if its a sign of anything other than another era of my life, but it is undeniable that a few years ago I was writing lots, and daily and now I write very little. And not just blogging. I used to write short stories. They were terrible and often stopped abruptly.
I look back at that time of my life and the thing that sticks out is how lonely and unfulfilled I was. I was working as a para, a job a monkey could do really, with no sense of importance or mission. It was just a job to me. I lived in low income housing, I hated it. I was surrounded by idiots, drug users and child abusers. One time I saw a girl slam her baby into a seat and called and reported it. I can't prove it, but I think she or her friends vandelized my apartment after that. Someone sure broke in and took groceries and made an even bigger mess of the place. I had no car and had to walk or get rides to work, the store and appointments. I used to use Isaiah's red wagon to go to the grocery store. I once had social service show up when I chastized a "friend" who backed out of giving me a ride to the next town to shop at a grocery store. I told her I was basically out of food because I'd been planning on the ride. Her response was to send the social workers.
I could go on, but my point is that I had no real friends, no power and no sense of control over my life and environment. I wrote as a way of engaging my mental capacities and ranting and wailing at the world. I think it worked. I didn't take up drinking or drugs, I didn't seek unsuitable crowds in an attempt to solve my lonliness. I used my writing to explore possibilities and work out what to do with my life.
I say it worked because I am no longer stuck in low income housing. I am a teacher, and loving it, instead of a disillusioned and under paid para. I have local and internet friends. I have a driver's liscence and car and drive A LOT. Some days I just drive to be driving. But so much as I used to. I have a life partner that I may or may not actually marry. In other words, life is good.
Another difference between my "now" and my "then" is my level of busy-ness. During the school year I am on the go from about 7am to 7 pm, just with work and kid hauling. After that, there is cooking, cleaning, homework for kids, activities. We recently moved to a rural property several miles out in the country. I LOVE IT OUT HERE! But with that comes more yard work, gardening, home improvement, and animal care. (I have a flock of chickens and Chris has a couple of horses)
I'm not saying life is all daisy chains. I am still frustrated with my co-teaching situation. I've applied and applied for more traditional teaching positions, but it isn't happening for some reason. I have theories ranging from my being overly educated and too expensive to hire to one of my references being rotten. Until my "Dream" position shows up, I plan to be fully dedicated to the position I am in.
Chris and I have been living together for a year. Its hard in a way I couldn't quite imagine when I was single, or even when I was dating but not living with. I love him and he loves me and we are both committed to maintaining a life long relationship.
I don't think this is the end of my blogging. I tend to run to my blog when ever I am upset, I'm sure a review would reveal a lot of melodrama and very little else. But I think its safe to say that regular posts are a thing of the past.
I look back at that time of my life and the thing that sticks out is how lonely and unfulfilled I was. I was working as a para, a job a monkey could do really, with no sense of importance or mission. It was just a job to me. I lived in low income housing, I hated it. I was surrounded by idiots, drug users and child abusers. One time I saw a girl slam her baby into a seat and called and reported it. I can't prove it, but I think she or her friends vandelized my apartment after that. Someone sure broke in and took groceries and made an even bigger mess of the place. I had no car and had to walk or get rides to work, the store and appointments. I used to use Isaiah's red wagon to go to the grocery store. I once had social service show up when I chastized a "friend" who backed out of giving me a ride to the next town to shop at a grocery store. I told her I was basically out of food because I'd been planning on the ride. Her response was to send the social workers.
I could go on, but my point is that I had no real friends, no power and no sense of control over my life and environment. I wrote as a way of engaging my mental capacities and ranting and wailing at the world. I think it worked. I didn't take up drinking or drugs, I didn't seek unsuitable crowds in an attempt to solve my lonliness. I used my writing to explore possibilities and work out what to do with my life.
I say it worked because I am no longer stuck in low income housing. I am a teacher, and loving it, instead of a disillusioned and under paid para. I have local and internet friends. I have a driver's liscence and car and drive A LOT. Some days I just drive to be driving. But so much as I used to. I have a life partner that I may or may not actually marry. In other words, life is good.
Another difference between my "now" and my "then" is my level of busy-ness. During the school year I am on the go from about 7am to 7 pm, just with work and kid hauling. After that, there is cooking, cleaning, homework for kids, activities. We recently moved to a rural property several miles out in the country. I LOVE IT OUT HERE! But with that comes more yard work, gardening, home improvement, and animal care. (I have a flock of chickens and Chris has a couple of horses)
I'm not saying life is all daisy chains. I am still frustrated with my co-teaching situation. I've applied and applied for more traditional teaching positions, but it isn't happening for some reason. I have theories ranging from my being overly educated and too expensive to hire to one of my references being rotten. Until my "Dream" position shows up, I plan to be fully dedicated to the position I am in.
Chris and I have been living together for a year. Its hard in a way I couldn't quite imagine when I was single, or even when I was dating but not living with. I love him and he loves me and we are both committed to maintaining a life long relationship.
I don't think this is the end of my blogging. I tend to run to my blog when ever I am upset, I'm sure a review would reveal a lot of melodrama and very little else. But I think its safe to say that regular posts are a thing of the past.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
My best Friend/ My biggest Fear
So, long time, no blog. Been busy. Been "happy". Been having a definite lack of drive to write anything.
I love Chris so much. So much. Can't even explain how much. I love how he giggles when something strikes him as funny, like he is surprised to be laughing. I love how his eyes sparkle when he's happy or having a good time. I love how he has a plan for what he wants to do and works at it until it is finished, even when the process is annoying to me.
But, and there is always a but, isn't there.
There are things I hate about him. Which is hard, because it is hard to hate something you love. I hate that he thinks he is entitled to have his way in all things, especially if he is paying for it. And even when he isn't. I hate that he deals with emotions by drinking. I hate that when he has a problem, he pretends it isn't a problem until he can't anymore. I hate that when he is mad at himself or hurting over something else, he deals with it by striking out at those of us he claims to love. I hate that he is so enfatuated with nice things that he lets concern for them become more important to him than how he treats us or makes us feel.
I know that this is a big, scary list of things I dislike. And the following is even scarier. And I think its going to sound really bad, because it makes so little sense.
It started three weeks ago. We moved. He finally got the cash dispersement from his gramma's estate and we looked and looked at houses before buying ten acres in rural kansas with a single wide trailer on it. I know, "trailer trash". But to be out in the country, to have enough space to garden, have a horse or three, let the kids run and play, shoot at targets, it was too great to pass up.
Moving sucked, doesn't it always? Between the two of us, we had too much crap for this smaller house. But I knew it was coming and was prepared to get rid of some things. He seemed to be also.
So we get moved. We start to get things put away and arranged. And then the rest of his grammas estate needs to be dealt with. The physical property like furniture and clothes.
At this point, things get weird. He got in a hurry. Left on the third, took his stepdad with him, came back with a 20 foot uhaul on the fifth. And it was FULL. Antiques, boxes of photos, trunks full of clothes and blankets, all jumbled together. Trash literally mixed with treasure. There was no way all of it could possible fit into this house.
Maybe, MAYBE, if we got rid of even more stuff we had already owned, we could fit some of it in. And that's IF, we wanted it all in. Some of it was/is HIDEOUS. Orange-red high backed chairs and matching footstool? No thanks. All of it smelled like old people and pot (his grama lived her final years in colorado, the stuff was sitting in a house his stepbrothers lived in all winter).
So, any way, it was here, I wasn't thrilled, tried to be supportive and make the best of it. It sat in the truck for a few days, he'd rented it for longer than the trip took, but we finally had to empty it and take it back. I really tried to get him to rent a storage unit somewhere. For at least a few weeks until the house could be put together and stuff sorted. He didn't want to. Was very glib about the fact that it would be fine on the deck with a roll of plastic over it.
It wasn't fine. It rained last night. The plastic blew off the stuff almost immdiately. Add to that, the fact that Christopher stayed up all last night. Past of it was that he was snoring and I elbowed him to stop. Part of it was that he was in a nasty mood over the stuff and the rain and was up drinking.
That's how he handles his feelings. He stays up all night and drinks. By the morning, he's usually rearranged or reorganized something and worked out his feelings. Often times he goes to bed and sleeps all day and is fine. Sometimes his mood just stays nasty. He picks at people and things, basically taking his nasty mood out on those around him.
There have also been times that his drinking resulted in nasty fights between the two of us. I'm hard headed. I won't let something drop, especially when I'm a bit drunk myself. This morning was the worst it has ever been.
He was already upset over his gramma and her stuff, I get it, grief makes you crazy and in weird ways. In addition to having been up all night drinking and moving that stuff around, he was without sleep, mad about it and had taken an ambian.
Then Isaiah came in with the news that a chicken had been killed. Chris came out of that bedroom like his ass was on fire. He was mad and he was set on killing the dog. In front of the rest of us.
A verbal arguement started. He called me nasty names and was basically a monster. Gizmo was handled roughly and tossed around unkindly. Isaiah and Chris were nose to nose. The little boys were in tears. I was screaming. I got the car keys, my phone and purse together. Stashed all but the phone in the car. Told the boys to get in the car. Got the other animals in the car with them. Chris and Isaiah were still face to face by the dog pen, with Gizmo still in it. Neither Chris nor Isaiah were backing down. I tried to call 911. The phone froze up.
I fumbled. Chris yelled that it was legal to kill a pet that killed a chicken. I told him to prove it. He snatched the phone and smashed its screen on a rock in the yard. I tried to grab it back, but it was too broken to work.
Chris and Isaiah were still face to face. I picked up a rock out of the yard and held it up. I told him he could move or get a rock in his face. His face cleared a little. He backed up. Isaiah got the dog. We got in the car and left.
I drove the ten miles to the nearest gas station. Got their phone. Called 911. Made a report. Did my best to be accurate and not embelish the situation. The deputy said it was a must arrest report. After we were done taking, he went and interviewed Chris here at the house and took him to jail.
I drove the kids on in to Parsons. The little dudes didn't have shoes. Noah didn't have a shirt. i had four animals in the car, along with us. I was trying not to sob.
My cousin wasn't home. My aunt was at a church retreat. So I did the only thing I could think of. I took the kids through the McDonalds drive through and then to Walmart. Isaiah stayed in the car with the kids and animals. I bought a new phone on a pre-paid plan with a new number. And fix - a - flat and a pet crate.
The fix - a - flat was for my Mazda it is sitting in Chris's mom's driveway. I've been driving a ford freestyle that we bought for the all wheel drive capabilities with plans to sell the Mazda.
The deputy stopped by after we got home. Took some pictures. Asked some follow up questions. Chris apparently tried to get me arrested for driving off in the ford. We bought it together, he can't do that.
He also can't kick us out of this home. We choose it and moved in together. He can take me to court and try. I've decided I'll fight it. I've also decided that if he will commit to 100% all the time sobriety, no alcohol ever, no ambian, no sleep aids, and if he will come to couple's counseling of some sort with me, I'm willing to work on it.
I still love him. I love him, but this is not okay. Running over my feelings in things relating to our home and then taking the consequences of his poor planning out on us is not okay. Threatening to kill my son's dog is not okay.
I love Chris so much. So much. Can't even explain how much. I love how he giggles when something strikes him as funny, like he is surprised to be laughing. I love how his eyes sparkle when he's happy or having a good time. I love how he has a plan for what he wants to do and works at it until it is finished, even when the process is annoying to me.
But, and there is always a but, isn't there.
There are things I hate about him. Which is hard, because it is hard to hate something you love. I hate that he thinks he is entitled to have his way in all things, especially if he is paying for it. And even when he isn't. I hate that he deals with emotions by drinking. I hate that when he has a problem, he pretends it isn't a problem until he can't anymore. I hate that when he is mad at himself or hurting over something else, he deals with it by striking out at those of us he claims to love. I hate that he is so enfatuated with nice things that he lets concern for them become more important to him than how he treats us or makes us feel.
I know that this is a big, scary list of things I dislike. And the following is even scarier. And I think its going to sound really bad, because it makes so little sense.
It started three weeks ago. We moved. He finally got the cash dispersement from his gramma's estate and we looked and looked at houses before buying ten acres in rural kansas with a single wide trailer on it. I know, "trailer trash". But to be out in the country, to have enough space to garden, have a horse or three, let the kids run and play, shoot at targets, it was too great to pass up.
Moving sucked, doesn't it always? Between the two of us, we had too much crap for this smaller house. But I knew it was coming and was prepared to get rid of some things. He seemed to be also.
So we get moved. We start to get things put away and arranged. And then the rest of his grammas estate needs to be dealt with. The physical property like furniture and clothes.
At this point, things get weird. He got in a hurry. Left on the third, took his stepdad with him, came back with a 20 foot uhaul on the fifth. And it was FULL. Antiques, boxes of photos, trunks full of clothes and blankets, all jumbled together. Trash literally mixed with treasure. There was no way all of it could possible fit into this house.
Maybe, MAYBE, if we got rid of even more stuff we had already owned, we could fit some of it in. And that's IF, we wanted it all in. Some of it was/is HIDEOUS. Orange-red high backed chairs and matching footstool? No thanks. All of it smelled like old people and pot (his grama lived her final years in colorado, the stuff was sitting in a house his stepbrothers lived in all winter).
So, any way, it was here, I wasn't thrilled, tried to be supportive and make the best of it. It sat in the truck for a few days, he'd rented it for longer than the trip took, but we finally had to empty it and take it back. I really tried to get him to rent a storage unit somewhere. For at least a few weeks until the house could be put together and stuff sorted. He didn't want to. Was very glib about the fact that it would be fine on the deck with a roll of plastic over it.
It wasn't fine. It rained last night. The plastic blew off the stuff almost immdiately. Add to that, the fact that Christopher stayed up all last night. Past of it was that he was snoring and I elbowed him to stop. Part of it was that he was in a nasty mood over the stuff and the rain and was up drinking.
That's how he handles his feelings. He stays up all night and drinks. By the morning, he's usually rearranged or reorganized something and worked out his feelings. Often times he goes to bed and sleeps all day and is fine. Sometimes his mood just stays nasty. He picks at people and things, basically taking his nasty mood out on those around him.
There have also been times that his drinking resulted in nasty fights between the two of us. I'm hard headed. I won't let something drop, especially when I'm a bit drunk myself. This morning was the worst it has ever been.
He was already upset over his gramma and her stuff, I get it, grief makes you crazy and in weird ways. In addition to having been up all night drinking and moving that stuff around, he was without sleep, mad about it and had taken an ambian.
Then Isaiah came in with the news that a chicken had been killed. Chris came out of that bedroom like his ass was on fire. He was mad and he was set on killing the dog. In front of the rest of us.
A verbal arguement started. He called me nasty names and was basically a monster. Gizmo was handled roughly and tossed around unkindly. Isaiah and Chris were nose to nose. The little boys were in tears. I was screaming. I got the car keys, my phone and purse together. Stashed all but the phone in the car. Told the boys to get in the car. Got the other animals in the car with them. Chris and Isaiah were still face to face by the dog pen, with Gizmo still in it. Neither Chris nor Isaiah were backing down. I tried to call 911. The phone froze up.
I fumbled. Chris yelled that it was legal to kill a pet that killed a chicken. I told him to prove it. He snatched the phone and smashed its screen on a rock in the yard. I tried to grab it back, but it was too broken to work.
Chris and Isaiah were still face to face. I picked up a rock out of the yard and held it up. I told him he could move or get a rock in his face. His face cleared a little. He backed up. Isaiah got the dog. We got in the car and left.
I drove the ten miles to the nearest gas station. Got their phone. Called 911. Made a report. Did my best to be accurate and not embelish the situation. The deputy said it was a must arrest report. After we were done taking, he went and interviewed Chris here at the house and took him to jail.
I drove the kids on in to Parsons. The little dudes didn't have shoes. Noah didn't have a shirt. i had four animals in the car, along with us. I was trying not to sob.
My cousin wasn't home. My aunt was at a church retreat. So I did the only thing I could think of. I took the kids through the McDonalds drive through and then to Walmart. Isaiah stayed in the car with the kids and animals. I bought a new phone on a pre-paid plan with a new number. And fix - a - flat and a pet crate.
The fix - a - flat was for my Mazda it is sitting in Chris's mom's driveway. I've been driving a ford freestyle that we bought for the all wheel drive capabilities with plans to sell the Mazda.
The deputy stopped by after we got home. Took some pictures. Asked some follow up questions. Chris apparently tried to get me arrested for driving off in the ford. We bought it together, he can't do that.
He also can't kick us out of this home. We choose it and moved in together. He can take me to court and try. I've decided I'll fight it. I've also decided that if he will commit to 100% all the time sobriety, no alcohol ever, no ambian, no sleep aids, and if he will come to couple's counseling of some sort with me, I'm willing to work on it.
I still love him. I love him, but this is not okay. Running over my feelings in things relating to our home and then taking the consequences of his poor planning out on us is not okay. Threatening to kill my son's dog is not okay.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Ignore most of what I typed
Below. It was a rant, that doesn't make it untrue. Just makes it more of a purge than anything else. I'll try to have a calm conversation with im.
Which is hard. He never wants to hear it. Which is that part that is actually getting old.
Which is hard. He never wants to hear it. Which is that part that is actually getting old.
Expectations
I feel more and more lately that my voice is being discounted. Like I don't really count all that much. If I don't agree with something, I'm just being obstinate and wrong. Like if I don't just follow along with whatever it is, I am going to be left behind. I am a place holder. None of the unique attributes that make me an individual matter. I could be any generic female.
Example: We are looking at houses. He wants to move back to PK to be near his mom. She is so important in his life that he will drop work, blow me off and ignore anything I want in a home to be near to or to please her.
I do not want to go clean my mother in law's house. She is not crippled and her husband gets around even better than she does. He could vacuum and dust if it makes her lungs act up. I went to PK to attend a cousin's baby shower. He said he would clean his mom's house while I was doing that. But when we got back to her house, he hadn't even started. Then he expected me to help him.
Is that normal? I don't think so.
They were talking about what houses we were interested in. She keeps saying we need five bedrooms so she can come stay over. We are moving into the same town she lives in, why should we make sure we have room for her to stay? Shouldn't we be looking for a quality house for the money we have? Shouldn't the house's major attributes, like heating, air, structure, electric, roof and plumbing be ranked above "has room for guests?"
But when I say, "hey, lets talk about these guests", I'm the bad guy. And I didn't say no guests ever, I said I don't want it to be constant and I don't want to be on the hook for feeding and housing a bunch of people I don't know while I am also trying to raise my kids and handle work. I don't think that's unreasonable to want to be sure these people know they need to go home.
He wants to move "to a ski resort" when his mom dies. She has COPD, it will eventually kill her. But we don't know when. In the mean time, the kids are in school, I have a career I'd like not to sabotage, and he can't even finish one semester of nursing prerequisit classes.
And then she's grilling him about classes and she asks, with me sitting right there, if he needs to move in with her (meaning out of here, breaking up this little family we've tried to create) so that he doesn't have to worry about work or bills and he can just focus on class.
Uhm, hello? Is that not just about the rudest thing ever?
Here's a thought, if he did live in PK, he'd spend every night out drinking with people he looks down on ( admits he doesn't want to live like they live and doesn't want their activities at his home), he'd sleep in every day with a hang over, and he'd still not be finishing any classes.
But I'm the super bitch with I want to bring up that we kind of had a deal. He'd make progress on his classes, get into nursing school, get some better potential for jobs and income, and I'd work on the baby making issues.
He gets so irate with me, and drops all these thinly veiled threats that if I don't get pregnant in a year, on my own dime, that he's going to leave me. But I can't point out that he's still indulging in self destructive behaviors like blowing off his classes or going out partying with a bunch of trashy pot heads and being too hung over to focus on the classes he is supposedly there to deal with.
But I'm the one with problems. I'm the one in the wrong because my idea of an evening out is more that standing around in some garage full of stupid stoners. And I'm the one in the wrong when some fucking idiot gets offended at nothing and starts picking a fight.
Please.
If you are so obcessed with having more money, lets start with not hanging around with trash. I don't care if we knew them ten years ago. If whats her face can't meet up somewhere not full of trash people, maybe she isn't that great a friend. Not until she wants you to buy her a new phone. Oh, what? The government would pay for her to get a low income cell phone? But we are paying for it anyway? Why? Oh, right, so you get to feel important.
And all this shit I have to eat because I have no vote and no voice, not really. Clean clean clean. Chores chores chores. that's really all I hear anymore.
What ever, I mean, nothing is perfect. But shit. I make good money. What ever we end up doing, I'm the one who will be paying for it all. I can't afford to commute and pay a house payment. And I can't trust him to stop throwing away opportunities to go party.
And I am so tired of feeling like I am at the bottom of his list. Mom has a doctor's appointment, he's prepared to miss three days of work. I have a family thing, he can't go because of a cold]. Whatsherface lets her asshole ex-boyfriend back in the house and he breaks her phone, he's on it to try to recover her pictures. I pay almost $100 for materials to fix my laptop, it sits there for months until I dig out a video on youtube to try to repair it. His mom can't clean her house, no problem, he'll do it. My house is never clean enough for him.
I really do feel like a place holder. Any woman would do. He doesn't want a partner in his life, he wants a dumb door mat who will pay the bills and agree with him all the time.
But I'm the superbitch.
Example: We are looking at houses. He wants to move back to PK to be near his mom. She is so important in his life that he will drop work, blow me off and ignore anything I want in a home to be near to or to please her.
I do not want to go clean my mother in law's house. She is not crippled and her husband gets around even better than she does. He could vacuum and dust if it makes her lungs act up. I went to PK to attend a cousin's baby shower. He said he would clean his mom's house while I was doing that. But when we got back to her house, he hadn't even started. Then he expected me to help him.
Is that normal? I don't think so.
They were talking about what houses we were interested in. She keeps saying we need five bedrooms so she can come stay over. We are moving into the same town she lives in, why should we make sure we have room for her to stay? Shouldn't we be looking for a quality house for the money we have? Shouldn't the house's major attributes, like heating, air, structure, electric, roof and plumbing be ranked above "has room for guests?"
But when I say, "hey, lets talk about these guests", I'm the bad guy. And I didn't say no guests ever, I said I don't want it to be constant and I don't want to be on the hook for feeding and housing a bunch of people I don't know while I am also trying to raise my kids and handle work. I don't think that's unreasonable to want to be sure these people know they need to go home.
He wants to move "to a ski resort" when his mom dies. She has COPD, it will eventually kill her. But we don't know when. In the mean time, the kids are in school, I have a career I'd like not to sabotage, and he can't even finish one semester of nursing prerequisit classes.
And then she's grilling him about classes and she asks, with me sitting right there, if he needs to move in with her (meaning out of here, breaking up this little family we've tried to create) so that he doesn't have to worry about work or bills and he can just focus on class.
Uhm, hello? Is that not just about the rudest thing ever?
Here's a thought, if he did live in PK, he'd spend every night out drinking with people he looks down on ( admits he doesn't want to live like they live and doesn't want their activities at his home), he'd sleep in every day with a hang over, and he'd still not be finishing any classes.
But I'm the super bitch with I want to bring up that we kind of had a deal. He'd make progress on his classes, get into nursing school, get some better potential for jobs and income, and I'd work on the baby making issues.
He gets so irate with me, and drops all these thinly veiled threats that if I don't get pregnant in a year, on my own dime, that he's going to leave me. But I can't point out that he's still indulging in self destructive behaviors like blowing off his classes or going out partying with a bunch of trashy pot heads and being too hung over to focus on the classes he is supposedly there to deal with.
But I'm the one with problems. I'm the one in the wrong because my idea of an evening out is more that standing around in some garage full of stupid stoners. And I'm the one in the wrong when some fucking idiot gets offended at nothing and starts picking a fight.
Please.
If you are so obcessed with having more money, lets start with not hanging around with trash. I don't care if we knew them ten years ago. If whats her face can't meet up somewhere not full of trash people, maybe she isn't that great a friend. Not until she wants you to buy her a new phone. Oh, what? The government would pay for her to get a low income cell phone? But we are paying for it anyway? Why? Oh, right, so you get to feel important.
And all this shit I have to eat because I have no vote and no voice, not really. Clean clean clean. Chores chores chores. that's really all I hear anymore.
What ever, I mean, nothing is perfect. But shit. I make good money. What ever we end up doing, I'm the one who will be paying for it all. I can't afford to commute and pay a house payment. And I can't trust him to stop throwing away opportunities to go party.
And I am so tired of feeling like I am at the bottom of his list. Mom has a doctor's appointment, he's prepared to miss three days of work. I have a family thing, he can't go because of a cold]. Whatsherface lets her asshole ex-boyfriend back in the house and he breaks her phone, he's on it to try to recover her pictures. I pay almost $100 for materials to fix my laptop, it sits there for months until I dig out a video on youtube to try to repair it. His mom can't clean her house, no problem, he'll do it. My house is never clean enough for him.
I really do feel like a place holder. Any woman would do. He doesn't want a partner in his life, he wants a dumb door mat who will pay the bills and agree with him all the time.
But I'm the superbitch.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Better
Isn't is amazing how things can go from awful to great in just a few days? I almost wonder if some of either feeling aren't all in my mind. I think I am overly sensitive to any issue related to either possibile dishonestly, possible using of me, and possible ass-hatery. I suspect this is because I have so many lying, using, and ass -hate acting men in my past.
I could recount it all. Contrast those situations in which my mom, my dad, and both my brothers lifted money off me and then claimed no one had. Or how The Ass Hat would twist things around. How the Other One clearly used me for a warm bed, groceries, and a ride.
But I don't need to. I know Chris isn't like any of them. Not really. Yes, he has used substances in his past and recently had an adverse drug interaction happen that could have been much scarier. Yes, he makes less than I do at the moment. BUT, he doesn't hide clear liquor in soda cans and drink all day like my dad used to. He doesn't pitch an absolute fit when I can't accommodate his wants within my resources.
I also seem to have trouble with remembering that when it is "that" time of the month, everything seems awful to me. I try to be aware of that in the moment, but when I am caught up in it, it all feels so absolute.
Tonight he had an evening class and when he came home, Gideon ran up to him, gave him a big, dangling hug, and said, "I love you, daddy". It was spontaneous on his part and almost low key in the way he did it. But I know it was a big deal to both of them. Gideon has always ached for a father. And I think Chris was a little hurt when he moved in and couldn't immediately fill that role in their minds.
Things were rough. I won't lie. You can't combine households like that without some wrinkles. And I feel that things may get rough again. I sometimes question my own sanity and motivations. I think that comes from having grown up with a crazy person and an addict as my parents. When normal doesn't live here in your childhood, its hard to recreate it as an adult.
I could recount it all. Contrast those situations in which my mom, my dad, and both my brothers lifted money off me and then claimed no one had. Or how The Ass Hat would twist things around. How the Other One clearly used me for a warm bed, groceries, and a ride.
But I don't need to. I know Chris isn't like any of them. Not really. Yes, he has used substances in his past and recently had an adverse drug interaction happen that could have been much scarier. Yes, he makes less than I do at the moment. BUT, he doesn't hide clear liquor in soda cans and drink all day like my dad used to. He doesn't pitch an absolute fit when I can't accommodate his wants within my resources.
I also seem to have trouble with remembering that when it is "that" time of the month, everything seems awful to me. I try to be aware of that in the moment, but when I am caught up in it, it all feels so absolute.
Tonight he had an evening class and when he came home, Gideon ran up to him, gave him a big, dangling hug, and said, "I love you, daddy". It was spontaneous on his part and almost low key in the way he did it. But I know it was a big deal to both of them. Gideon has always ached for a father. And I think Chris was a little hurt when he moved in and couldn't immediately fill that role in their minds.
Things were rough. I won't lie. You can't combine households like that without some wrinkles. And I feel that things may get rough again. I sometimes question my own sanity and motivations. I think that comes from having grown up with a crazy person and an addict as my parents. When normal doesn't live here in your childhood, its hard to recreate it as an adult.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Define "deserve"
So, I've been thinking about this idea that we deserve this or that. We deserve respect. We all deserve kindness and compassion not matter what. But do we deserve lots and lots of material things?
That, I'm not so sure about. I wish I could say that part of the appeal of being in a romantic relationship wasn't the fact that it all wouldn't be on me. But, asmuch as I love him, I am afraid that chris is going to at least leave me with all the financial responsibility. He says he wants to go to nursing school, but he's blown off the last few semesters of school. If he can't finish a few low level courses (remedial math, English, Biology), how does he think he can do nursing school?
And, if he is otherwise loving and supportive, do I have any business feeling like he needs to be able to make more money? I make ok money, we aren't going to starve to death without extra income. I do know I will resent it if I end up having to cover his expenses. Our deal now tends to be that I pay him $100 for my share of the phone bill and he contributes a couple of hundred for his share of the rent and groceries. I don't count every penny he contributes, but I know it seems like as soon as he is paid,, he pays his bills and he has less than $100 left for gas and cigarretes, and his share of expenses. I know he likes kitchen stuff and technology as much as I do, but I am not great at being generous to adults.
I'm not sure what my point is, other than that nothing ever turns out the way we intended it and as adults, we should be able to accept that. At the same time, I never wanted to be the bread winner again. I'm not sure how to balance the idea that we are equals with the fact that he wants certain things, that it looks like I am going to be on the hook to pay for.
I'm rambling, its because I didn't think all this out before I started writing. But I'm still thinking its good to try to get all out.
That, I'm not so sure about. I wish I could say that part of the appeal of being in a romantic relationship wasn't the fact that it all wouldn't be on me. But, asmuch as I love him, I am afraid that chris is going to at least leave me with all the financial responsibility. He says he wants to go to nursing school, but he's blown off the last few semesters of school. If he can't finish a few low level courses (remedial math, English, Biology), how does he think he can do nursing school?
And, if he is otherwise loving and supportive, do I have any business feeling like he needs to be able to make more money? I make ok money, we aren't going to starve to death without extra income. I do know I will resent it if I end up having to cover his expenses. Our deal now tends to be that I pay him $100 for my share of the phone bill and he contributes a couple of hundred for his share of the rent and groceries. I don't count every penny he contributes, but I know it seems like as soon as he is paid,, he pays his bills and he has less than $100 left for gas and cigarretes, and his share of expenses. I know he likes kitchen stuff and technology as much as I do, but I am not great at being generous to adults.
I'm not sure what my point is, other than that nothing ever turns out the way we intended it and as adults, we should be able to accept that. At the same time, I never wanted to be the bread winner again. I'm not sure how to balance the idea that we are equals with the fact that he wants certain things, that it looks like I am going to be on the hook to pay for.
I'm rambling, its because I didn't think all this out before I started writing. But I'm still thinking its good to try to get all out.
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