Sunday, August 21, 2005

Livin' With Evils's - Volume 5

So today I sit here with a profound problem that I am facing, which I am sure that some of you have faced before, a lot of you have not, and many of you wouldn’t have seen it coming. Thursday is my youngest daughters birthday, the Saturday after that is my sons, and a couple of weeks after that is my oldest daughters. Let us not forget that my grandmother {Greektradgedius Inyiddish} who also lives with me is in this mix somewhere too. Her birthday is between middle evil and big evil’s birthdays. Then in the old days I would have a couple of months to get as much money as I possibly could together for Christmas.

Now don’t get me wrong we live ok. Many years back I started with a trailer, sold it bought a duplex, sold that bought a good sized house, sold that and bought my grandmothers so that she could retire, and I could get a serious tax break. I then moved out to upstate New York, where I got a townhouse, and was hoping to spend the rest of my life. Saratoga Springs … Gods country, where the people are friendly, the seasons are perfectly desirable, and all of the bullsh** that I have found the typical New Hampshire day to day was … well back in New Hampshire where it belonged. For those of you who don’t truly know me, know that my whole life’s goals and ambitions are to get away from this God forsaken state. I would of course go out to Maine {the only place I hate worse than New Hampshire} to pick up my kids, and take them back to my house in NH to spend every other weekend with them like a good daddy. The ex-wife had moved them into Kenebec County Maine, where nobody works, so she could get welfare like the rest of them, and simply collect the child support. I figured 2 hour drive 5 hour drive, it was finally time to get on with my life in New York.

The phone call came in from my former mother-in-law that my son had burned down the apartment complex that they were living in, and {the mother of all evils’s} wasn’t going to tell me … but … she {the mother of all evils’s mother that is} wanted me to come get the kids from her, and preferably never let her daughter have them back. I packed up the life I had so desperately wanted and was finally living for the last year and moved back to NH that very day. I took custody of my kids leaving the greatest job I ever had, the most beautiful home I had ever had, and of course the new bride I had behind. The bride did follow of course, but at least I could dream that she stayed there {grinning} and avoided the whole future lesbian thing. A year and a half of nasty custody battles later, and I had my kids, and she had an hour a week to see them. It started as every other weekend, and she just kept getting worse and worse til the judges thought she should see them less. One would think that everything was going great, but in reality it was going pretty bad. In the reality of everything I never wanted any of this. I was just doing what was right for the kids, and I still know that it is the right thing.

Back in Nooooooooo Hampshah, and I had a new job dumping asphalt on fiberglass yippee! Far shade from building Naval components like I had in NY, but I did what I could to support the kids. To this day we are actually the poorest family in the richest town in NH. When the fire department here has their toy drive, they basically place all of the clothing and donation bins at the end of our driveway. The best part of all of that was that we rarely had to worry about such things as paying for school lunches etc, since nobody really bothered to ask us if we needed it, it was always just a given. Supporting 5 people on 600$ a week was pretty darn hard when the ex-wife left, but I endured. Well I endured until I got hurt at work anyway. I watched 600$ a week turn into 400$ a week. I could hold on for quite a while because I didn’t have a mortgage. The Minivan was paid off, and I had a whopping 100$ month car payment on my Focus, and the bills were at least somewhat manageable. Weeks turned into months, and I am staring down the loaded revolver known to me as the gauntlet of birthdays. Credit cards maxxed, bank account empty.

My oldest daughter {Lazius Boycrazius} has a lot of friends, she has often commented on how her friends have everything, and for the love of Christ they do. All filthy rich, most of them spoiled rotten, many of them have butlers and chauffeurs for the love of Pete. My son {Captain ADHD}, doesn’t notice for all of his friend’s parents adore him and pick him up for play dates in their mansions, and he is only gonna be 7 here pretty soon. The youngest {Imtoocutus} just thinks that she has everything any soon to be 5 year old is ever going to need. It’s my issue that I just want to die, because I can’t even get her a decent birthday present after all right? The confusion that I have been riddled with and walking around, hoping it would just disappear, hasn’t worked as it never has anyway.

So this morning, I am trying to write this Blog entry, I have a suicide note in my IM from someone who has some real honesty issues anyway. I am talking to my ex who is in love with the guy about perhaps staying single long enough to learn how to be happy. My actual girlfriend {and yes I am finally using those words} is asleep and has far more to deal with than I hope to anytime soon. More confusion going on as people are trying to find out what is up with “The Mad Suicide Noter” and I am actually sitting here crying, as I type this stupid Blog that has become my very existence. Yes I do cry at times, because I could care what others think actually. Who am I left to talk to, God? God helps me with what I need already, this is obviously something that God wants me to work through, and has alleviated some of the pain.

It was initially a good thing that “Big Evil” aka Lazius Boycrazius, has become somewhat human lately. She thanked me the other day for being as good of a father as I was capable of. It sorta sounded like this “Thanks for not leaving me with Mom”, which was I think a slight hint that she has become self aware that, since she is not my biological daughter, that she didn’t have to be living here I guess, but it never crossed MY mind. Some idiot probably told her something along those lines, and as bad as the intentions probably were it did force us to talk about it. We both cried (cuz that’s what we do) through a talk about how, she was what her parents made her, and somehow, God brought me along to possibly change some of that. She knows that she is both the poorest and youngest student in the 8th grade here. She initially moved out to NY with me, before I came back here to take custody of the other two, which I am sorry that I forgot to mention that. Biological or not I am her daddy after all. She expressed gratitude for being in a situation where she can live amongst the mansions instead of the trailers.

“Little Evil” aka Imtoocutus has a different way of making me cry you see, it was her idea that her and I sit down and make her birthday presents together like we do everyone else’s Christmas presents. She seems to think that since I always tell her that it makes them more special, that her Birthday presents should be special too. In all reality she just wants to spend time with her daddy, and if I don't get her a Barbie or something I'll still regret it, but put a price tag on that anyway. I guess every once in a great while you can teach the new dogs the old tricks. I’ll just sit here until the crying wears off. ;8o)