Archive for category Headed For Divorce

Catching Up …. You Can’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

I filed for divorce in June.  When he found out, he flipped out.  In June, there were days where he kept me up for over 48 hours at a time in spurts.  One moment he was praising how good he was and the next moment he was tearing me down and telling me mean things such as calling me a “social moron” or calling me “sexually dysfunctional”.

For the sake of the marriage, I enlisted a marriage counselor in July.  We agreed to 8 weeks of counseling and holding off on the divorce proceedings.  We started off counseling, and the counselor gave us homework to do.  I did my part, he failed to do his part.  In counseling she told us that I was looking for an emotional connection, I wanted to feel loved, adored, appreciated and respected.  She also told him that emotional and verbal abuse scars take longer to heal than physical abuse.  While he admitted to everything I said as true and accurate, he contended that I should accept him as who he is, flaws, verbal abuse and all.  He said, “she’s got a house, a business, a car, a kid – people are jealous of her. What more does she want?”  My therapist said that he equates material things to love, whereas I equate emotional connections to love.  We were on two different realities and we needed to come together.

Later on in therapy, he said that there are no issues in the marriage.  All the problems were my issues not his.  I had a problem with him, he didn’t have a problem with me, therefore he didn’t think he belonged in therapy.  He also said that he was this way all of his life, he didn’t change, I did – and he was not willing to change for me.  When it was explained that I was 23 when we met, and Im now 34, of course, I changed, I matured and grew – and that our relationship should mature and grow too – he countered and said it shouldn’t.  Life was all about “survival” – as long as we are “surviving” it was fine.  There was no need to grow and learn more about ourselves.  That’s not what life is about.

He further went on in therapy to say that I had issues, not him.  I was insecure and I had abandonment issues.  My therapist countered, an insecure woman with abandonment issues would not file for divorce.  He couldn’t answer that.

Another issue we had in therapy was that there was no equality and no negotiation in the marriage.  He said straight out, “If its not going my way, I will shut it down”.  We had no mutuality, no mutual goals we were working on.  He said he didn’t want any more kids because he is selfish and likes his life, but he loves our son.  To my heartbreak of course.

I went to therapy by myself one day and she told me that everytime he does something or says something I was to treat him like a child.  “Stop that.  I will not take you talking that way to me.” If he threw a temper tantrum (which he did several time over the course of therapy) I was told to treat him like I would treat a child in a temper tantrum.  I should walk away and ignore him.  I tried it several times, and if I said, “Stop! Don’t say things like that!” He walked out of the car in the middle of the street one time I did that.

Therapy didn’t work out.  You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. But really, you can’t have someone change who isn’t willing to change.  That’s the bottom line.

He wanted me to accept him, flaws and all.  All I asked was to be treated a little more respectfully, both in our marriage and in bed.  Negotiate with me so we are both mutually satisfied.

So we decided on a marriage settlement agreement (MSA).  He told me, that I was to waive my irrevocable right to alimony, otherwise he wouldn’t sign.  He doesn’t want to pay child support, because I can support both myself and our son.  When I told him the courts could decide for us since he was being (again, not getting his way so we can’t negotiate) – he basically told me if these things werent in the agreement, he wouldn’t sign it.

He refuses to get a lawyer.  He took 7500 out of our business account, put it into his account and then took it out in cash.  When I accused him of hiding assets, he opened a new bank account in his name only and put it in there, because he wants the MSA to say all individually owned bank accounts will not be divided.

When I brought up the issue of when he was going to sign the MSA, he called me childish for wanting a divorce.  He told me that it was selfish of me to destroy our family just for the sake of me being happy.  He told me that I really didnt know what I wanted, I was so indecisive that I was the one doing damage to our family, not him.  He told me our therapist was irrational (she called him out on his verbal abuse) and I should seek counseling from someone who was rational and would “knock some sense into me”.

Yes, I am a bit undecided.  I spent 10 years with a man, whom I have a son with.  I don’t want to break up a family, but raising a son in this environment isn’t healthy.  (He feels it is).  I read statistics that children who grow up in an intact but angry family have more self esteem issues than those who go through with a divorce.  He is once again making promises (which he has in the past and has broken) that we can have more children and buy a real house for the family.   I am afraid that this is all just smoke and mirrors to get me to rescind the divorce papers so he will have his way.  I dont want to start over, its pretty scary! But I dont want to live a life full of lies and regrets. I dont want to look back 10 years from now and say, “I should have moved out.”

He called me deceitful for hiring an attorney and filing for divorce behind his back.  He told me that wives dont do that to their husbands. He has left me confused about our marriage – one moment he is happy and says we can have a child – the next minute he says he is not having a child with me to “save” a failing marriage.  So I am left not knowing where I stand.  If I go back, he will use the excuse we have issues to avoid more children.  If I try and go, he will say he will have more kids.

I can not forget him calling me a social moron (which I am not, I have more friends than him), or that I am sexually dysfunctional (I cant orgasm with him, I wonder why, perhaps there is no emotional connection?) or when he picked up my son by the collar of his shirt and choked him, or when he tried ramming me into the couch chocking me because I wanted to tape him saying “he will make sure I am in a cardboard box with our son, homeless) or when he told me to tell our son “tell him he will never see Daddy again” or how he woke our son up in the middle of the night and forced me to tell him “Mommy is leaving and breaking up the family” – I cant forget these are his manipulative ways when he doesn’t get his own way.  When he first found out I had an attorney, he left our son alone (he is 6) in the living room for 3 hours after he woke up without breakfast or lunch – because he was on the phone trying to call attorneys.  I had come home from work to check on our son and was raging mad that he was starving while my husband was too busy in the bathroom on the phone trying to make arrangements.

Right now, we are not speaking to each other.  I sit on my computer after dinner for hours playing games trying to ignore our issues, while he sits upstairs on his computer doing whatever he does.  We live a life of avoidance and not speaking.  He said the other day to our son that our marriage was once again “normal” – I guess not speaking to each other is what he considers a “normal happy marriage”.

Today I found his email open, he has subscribed to three dating sites, I was mad.  So I signed up with a fake email address and filled out the profile just to see what he has been up to.  He logs into these accounts daily it seems and he is looking for “dating but nothing serious”.  He also says he is looking for a “smart-ass” to have some fun with and it would be a bonus if you were a “smart-ass and a yoga instructor” so he can see you pull some moves.  This is not normal!  I know men look at porn, but it is completely disrespectful to have online profiles looking for dating!!! So much for him trying to save a marriage!

I have the final draft of the MSA sitting in my email, along with a copy of my CIS for him.  I am to email him and say I need the name of your attorney or the name of the attorney you will be consulting with to enter into these documents.  If you are not obtaining one, you need to contact my lawyer to schedule an appointment for the court stenographer to record a meeting between you and my lawyer so that he has advised you of your rights and you are entering into this MSA without duress and understand its contents.  I also need to ask him to look over the CIS and sign a form stating it is true to his knowledge or have him fill out his own CIS.  – I am dreading this moment because I know another argument will ensue over it.  When do I do it?  During the school week so my son’s studies will be affected?  During the weekend so I will be berated, belittled and screamed at for 48 hours straight while my son is home with us?

My lawyer says once the MSA goes over to him and we know who his lawyer is, or if he is going to come into his office, then we can get moving.  If he doesn’t respond, then he will write up a letter to him stating I am moving out with my son.  Let him get a lawyer and go to court to fight over it.  My lawyer says a judge will see the divorce was applied for in June, marital counseling in July and August, served in August, failed to respond to the service by the September deadline and failed to sign the MSA that we had agreed on … and will laugh in his face that now he is seeking me to come back home with our son.

Wish me luck, pray for me.  I need all the strength I can get.  I’m not sure when to send him the MSA.  My birthday is next week, I’m thinking it would be a good birthday gift to myself.

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Screaming Inside, Does Anyone Hear?

I feel like screaming right now.  How can a good evening turn sour so quickly?  Tonight, after dinner, I sat on the couch cuddling with LittleG as EmCee sat in the kitchen entertaining his long time friend, Dee.  (All names have been changed to protect identities).  It was just past bedtime for LittleG and of course, the rowdiness kicks in – climbing on me, pulling my hair, tickling me – all in the name of fun – you know the last dance before the evening ends.  So EmCee begins to walk past the TV as in saying (time for bed), and LittleG goofing around says, “I can push you.” and so he does… and EmCee says “Oh yea, well I can walk right through you.”

And so he does, only he accidentally knocks LittleG into the wooden and glass coffee table and LittleG’s head hits it so hard, I flew off the couch to carry him to the kitchen for an ice pack – immediately.

But no sooner than I can get my hands on ice, LittleG is screaming, “You don’t care about me.  No one cares about me.  My family doesn’t care about me, my friends don’t care about me.”

He goes running upstairs, but before he goes completely up, he pokes his head over the banister, “When I get older, I’m gonna blame you, like you blame me for everything.”

Words of a child.  Not my words, even though later on, EmCee firmly stated to me that the only way a child would say that is if he heard it from me.  No, my dear, EmCee, don’t be fooled by a child’s ability to perceive.  He’s not dumb, nor is he stupid.  He is quite smart and very well aware that you, EmCee, blame everything on everyone, but yourself.

It’s time to look in a mirror, EmCee.

After I comfort LittleG upstairs and finally get him to bed, I am fuming.  Sure it was an accident, but EmCee’s behavior last night combined with tonight, was just a bit too much for me to take.  So I broke.

But here’s a quick run down of last night (2/3/11) that kind of prompted tonight’s battle:

Last night, I called EmCee from the car and said, “I’m making meatloaf, mashed potatoes and carrots for dinner, is that alright?”

EmCee: “Why don’t you make meatballs and spaghetti?”  (His favorite thing, but he would eat a whole box of spaghetti himself if i let him).

LittleG: But I want meatloaf!

EmCee: But you don’t eat meatloaf.

LittleG: But Mommy says it tastes like meatballs.

Me, to EmCee:  It’s easier if I make meatloaf, its quicker.  It’s late already and I have to pick up your mom.  If I have to run to the store to get basil and sauce, its going to be very late by the time dinner is ready.  Besides, I thought you liked meatloaf?

EmCee: “Fine, but make meatballs tomorrow when Dee comes over.”

(Sounds good so far right??”

At the dinner table:

EmCee sees LittleG picking at his meatloaf, “What’s the matter LittleG?”

LittleG: “Nothing” (quietly)

a few moments later, LittleG: “Mommy, this meatloaf tastes sour.”

Me: “Ok let me taste it.”  (I taste it) “Its not sour, LittleG, that’s the way it tastes.”

LittleG: Well, I don’t like it.

EmCee: “You ruined my dinner.  You RUINED dinner for everyone.  It’s all because of YOU that Mommy made meatloaf. I wanted spaghetti.” (In his condescending, I am God tone).

How childish, EmCee is.  I made EmCee apologize for his comment almost immediately, I refuse to sit there and watch my son be treated like that.  I told him that just because LittleG is 6, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings.  EmCee reluctantly apologized.  It wasn’t until nearly midnight that EmCee told me that he realized he was wrong.  But I don’t think EmCee actually understands the degree his words can scar LittleG.

Tonight, after bed.

I explained to EmCee that his words scar LittleG and I can’t take it anymore.  I tell him that for 2 years we have been going on like this and its not improving.  That I’m not happy.  That we are two different people.  That he would be happier with someone else to fuck.  That I am not the same person anymore, I have changed.  That I can’t take that every night there is an argument or a disagreement in the house.  That I have to walk on eggshells to know if he’s in a good or bad mood.  That I have to tell LittleG “Don’t do that, you may get Daddy angry.” That his temper can change on a drop of a dime, and we have to be little soldiers or he gets upset.

I told him “I will not tolerate your abuse anymore!”

“Well if you only played by the rules, I wouldn’t get upset.”

“Exactly, but who defines those rules?  You do.  You make the rules and we all have to abide by them.  If I want to go to yoga, you talk me out of it, if I want to go to the mall, I can’t go alone.  If I want to go out with my friends, you tell them just to stay here. Who makes these rules, I don’t”

“Well you don’t listen to me anyway… (goes off on a tirade of how he gives me all these “freedoms”, how he is a good father and always takes care of Gabe when I’m not around, etc…)

“EmCee I’m pointing out issues we are having.  Instead of acknowledging them and trying to resolve them, once again, you are pointing out things LittleG and I do.  You’re circumventing the real issues here.  Why don’t you just take responsibility for once?”

“I don’t have any issues, but you do.  Go sow your wild oats, go have your freedom and find yourself.  If that’s what you want, just do it.  Leave.  As a matter of fact I’ll help you pack up.  But be careful what you wish for.”

“Be careful what I wish for?  That sounds like a threat.”

“No, that’s not a threat, just be careful what you wish for.  But you’re going to regret it.  You’re going to regret leaving me.  This is a big mistake.”

(At this point, he takes his computer, and says goodnight and begins to walk upstairs)

“Are you just going to leave and not finish this discussion?”

“There’s nothing to discuss, I am done.  You’re going to regret it.”

“But you won’t even acknowledge the issues or talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.

(I follow him upstairs and he takes LittleG to the potty.  I get LittleG into his pajamas and EmCee proceeds to put headphones on and go to sleep.  The conversation is done.)

What I realized tonight, is that all I ever wanted was for him to acknowledge his mistakes.  But tonight, I realized he never will.  He will never accept responsibility for his actions or words.  And if that’s the case, there is nothing else I can do, except move on.

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Piece of Ass

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am definitely not a prude.  If someone was to call me a “piece of ass” I’d take it as a compliment, because your average 20-40 year old guy probably uses the term more often than not, and not in a derogatory way – its just merely a way of them saying that  the woman who has caught their eye – is sexy.   But there is a time and a place for everything, and there is also a way of saying it that can turn a simple phrase into something vulgar and disgusting.

EmCee has a way of offending me with his comments.  Deep down in my heart, I know that’s just the way he is – as my dear (deceased) grandmother would say, “He’s crude, rude and uncouth.”  (Mind, you she never met EmCee, but I know that famous phrase of hers would have been uttered if she met him).

So EmCee is a little rough around the edges sometimes.  I know he doesn’t always mean what he says.  I know he’s not the roses and romance type.  I knew this when I married him.

But after nearly 10 years of being together, you would think he would know me well enough to know what to say to get laid.

Tuesday night (Jan 18, 2011) I was watching TV, one of my favorite shows, The Good Wife.  After it was over EmCee starts flipping through the DVR and puts on the Playboy show Foursome.  I sit idly by, on the couch, watching not for the sex, but gawking at the stupidity of the episode’s cast.  After that show finished, EmCee pulls out a bag full of porn videos (that he picked up from his friend) and proceeds to put one in.

I start to doze off on the couch, after all it’s nearly 1 am and I was tired from working all day (and subsequently doing the household chores, dinner, homework and such).  But God forbid, I tell EmCee I am tired and want to go to sleep, he pouts like a 2 year old.

At 1:30 am as I am napping (I wouldn’t call it sleep), I get woken up, “Let me see that ass of yours.”

Excuse me?  The mere words disgust me.  Now, I understand every couple has 3 stages of sex – fucking (when you just have to have your partner for a quick romp), sex (when you just want sex and you love your partner) and making love (you know the soft sweet, kiss you all night, caress you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear).   Mind you, EmCee has only 1 version of sex in his repertoire – and that’s fucking.

Usually, our sex session will consist of: EmCee expecting a blow job – a blow job is his idea of foreplay and he gives nothing in return to arouse me or get me interested.  After he gets a little head, he then expects to fuck and everytime he tries to have anal sex with me (which at this point, I flat out refuse to give into).  Once he’s done fucking me and is ready to “bust a nut” (as he so eloquently calls it) he pulls out, cums on some body part and then walks out to clean himself up.

While I am left in the bed, unfulfilled, unsatisfied and left holding the vibrator to please myself.  That’s just a saying, not that I’m using a vibrator while he fucks me (I’m usually just praying that he finishes up quickly), but the point is, if I want to orgasm, at this point, I need to use a vibrator because EmCee is done “working”.  He will then lay on the bed, smoke a cigarette and watch TV ignoring me.

So then what’s the point of me having sex with him?  Give me one good reason why, I should have sex with him, when sex is a one way street?

And I’ve told him, time and time again, if you want to get me interested, why don’t you initiate sex, you know, touch me, talk to me, kiss me, go down on me (oral sex), do something … just don’t expect me to give you a blow job and get in the mood without even warming me up!  His response usually is, well I kiss you and you pull away, I try to touch you and you don’t like it, I’ve tried to give you oral sex and you don’t like it.

Yes, EmCee that’s because your level of enthusiasm for doing any of those things is rated at a -10 (negative).  You don’t put any effort into it.  I think you rather eat a bowl of spaghetti than touch me or try to arouse me.

So when EmCee tells me, “Let me see that ass of yours.” It’s no wonder why I am unresponsive.  Whenever we have sex it’s not pleasurable for me.  It’s boring, routine and quite frankly, I feel that I am just being used.  That’s not love.  Maybe in his head that’s love, but it’s not for me, not anymore.  I refuse to be used as a “Piece of Ass.”

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Don’t Fear The Reaper

The door was open and the wind appeared
The candles blew and then disappeared
The curtains flew then he appeared
Saying don’t be afraid

– Don’t Fear The Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult

There’s something you should know.  Since I was a child, I feared death and loved life.  I often questioned if life was so great, so enjoyable, why did it have to end?  The process of death & dying I never took lightly – often the mere thought would send me spiraling into tears.  But that all changed last year when I met someone who I now consider a very dear friend of mine, M. 

I met M via the internet through casual conversation on twitter actually, about historical churches.  Our conversations which would go on for weeks via email would touch on spiritual topics, religions, history and metaphysical topics.  We spoke about our different upbringings (M lives in Europe) our current life’s work and so on.  But what we really bonded on was a spiritual connection.

When I visited Europe last year (with about 40 of my closest girlfriends from around the world, its a yearly pilgrimage we take) M also visited me.  During our email conversations, M would often say that he would not touch on the topic of Death with me because he knew how emotional it could be.  We would discuss it if we ever met in person.

When I met M, we took a walk around the city visiting various churches together, exploring the architecture and talking about the history and the religion which the building was affiliated.  After dinner one evening, I blurted out, “I don’t want to die!” and the floodgates opened.  M listened intently to everything I said and responded so gently to my outburst – I need not worry about dying.  M explained situations he had personally gone through, and explained that there is indeed existence after death, it is just not an existence neither you nor I have experienced during our mortal lives.

I had never before spoken to an individual who had words so comforting or words that I believed so deeply.   For the first time in my life, I found comfort, hope and faith.  M has always been, and will continue to be a spiritual rock for me.  M’s visited my home and stayed with EmCee, myself and Little G – and has been in my life for about 2 years now.  I’m an only child and M is about as close to a brother as I can get in this point in my life.

When I was visiting this year (last week) I got the awful news from my childhood best friend that her mother died.  Her mom was the inspiration for my business (I am in the same industry she was in) and I was deeply saddened by her passing.  It was like my own mother died.   My heart bled for my best friend, my heart bled for her family.

When I heard the news, I spoke to M.  And again (almost to the same day last year) we had a second conversation about death and dying.  But because our friendship had grown so much from the prior year, the conversation was much deeper and more insightful.  It comforted me and gave me hope.

Due to the time difference, I called EmCee as soon as it was daybreak in Jamaica to tell him of the news.  I told him the wake was on Monday (the day I was flying home) and Tuesday and the funeral mass was Wednesday morning.

“Well, you don’t have to go to the wake or the funeral do you?” EmCee barked over the phone as if her Mom’s passing was an inconvenience to him.

“Of course I do, EmCee.  That’s like my own Mom.  She’s my best friend.  How could I not go?” I responded.

“Well, she does realize you live an hour away in (another state)?” EmCee replied, almost annoyed that I was considering 3 days of constant travel.

“She’s not asking me to go, I am telling you that I am going.”  I had to put my foot down.  This is a man who has no regard for religion, the church or death.  “I have to pay my respects.  This is like family to me.”  But then again, I was speaking to a man who just had his cousin’s mom die and didn’t even go to the wake – add no regard for family to the list too.

Needless to say, I did make it to both days of the wake, but due to the time (and my son’s school schedule) I wasn’t able to make it to the funeral mass.  But I am glad that I was able to be with her and the family during this time.

Death, no it’s never been easy to me.  But standing there in the funeral home I was surprisingly calm.  I knew she went onto the next life – whether you call that heaven or reincarnation (or whatever you will) she is existing again.  I pray her journey be a happy one in the comfort of the angels.

EmCee and I had prior conversations to this regarding death, and he doesn’t believe in Heaven or Hell.  He doesn’t believe in anything.  He believes that once we die – we die – the end.  There is nothing more after our last breath.  During that conversation I had with him, it was then I realized, that when I die – I want to be holding the hand of someone who will give me courage and hope – by saying to me, “I will see you in Heaven, I will see you in the next life.”  I don’t want to be holding the hand of someone on my death bed who is saying, “Well, goodbye.  I hope you had a nice life because this is it.”

Because this isn’t it.  It’s not over.  This isn’t the end.  Those who believe shall be saved, those who believe will pass on to the next existence.  Those who believe, know … don’t fear the reaper.

Perhaps a bit morbid of a topic to blog upon, but this is just another way EmCee and I are totally incompatible – we are just on two different pages.  And its not just death, its the spiritual and religious aspect.  I have always been fascinated with religions and have a strong belief in a higher being (call him God, call him what you will) and EmCee has not.  When I was younger, I played into the whole notion that people of different religious backgrounds could overcome their differences – but now that I am older and closer to God, I realize that I need to have a partner who believes in a higher being just as much as I do – and who believes that they will see me in Heaven again – after this life is over.

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Again & Again – It’s Never Enough

Oh you hear
Me crying behind your back again
And you hear
My heart beat slowin’ down again

And i feel
Despair kissing our lips again
And i feel
Despair holding our hearts again

– Again, HIM

Although I have been quiet on here lately, it doesn’t mean the issues have faded or disappeared.  On the contrary, they have just manifested over and over again.  It’s never enough.  No matter how much I give, no matter how much I try it’s never enough.

Nothing is ever enough for him.  We give and give, and he takes and takes.  He will continue to take until there is no more.  And even after I am depleted, he will want more.

Every New Year’s we take vacations separately.  I visit my friends in Europe, he visits his friends in Jamaica.  And yes, we just got back from a family vacation in October.  And another family vacation just before that in July.

At first, his plane was canceled due to the heavy snows we had here in the northeast, but was rescheduled for 2 days later.  My plane however, was not canceled, which caused him to spin into a frenzy that I was getting away before him.  As if I had the upper hand, the advantage in his game of tit for tat.  Not that he said anything to me directly, but I could hear the panic in his voice, see the insanity in his eyes as he called the airline on Christmas Day pleading to change his flight to that evening so he could escape before the snows.  How he sat for nearly 24 hours in front of the computer trying to figure out a way to escape before me.

Unfortunately, his prayers were left unanswered, and he was forced to take vacation 2 days later than anticipated. Oh my poor husband, his vacation was cut down to 6 days instead of 8.  (Mind you, my vacation was only 6 days to begin with).

While I was overseas, Little G was with him.  I was called nearly every day and tortured – getting scolded for going away on my annual vacation and leaving him “alone” to deal with our son.  (Oh the horror! Can you imagine?!?) He told me that his vacation was horrible because he had no time for himself.  And I couldn’t imagine what it was like to deal with our son for 24/7 (Hmm, actually I do, who do you think takes care of him the majority of the time anyway?).

I was reminded that if I was there, things would be so much easier, because EmCee would have time for himself.  Please, he was in Jamaica with one of the richest families there who have a nanny watch our son and their own children when EmCee visits.  I feel so sorry that he was in warm temperatures at a 5 star all inclusive resort with a nanny…. *scarcasm*

When I touched down in America a few days ago, my (childhood) best friend’s mom had died (I have known her since I’m 5) and I had to drive straight to the funeral home for the wake directly from the airport.  After the wake, I ate a late dinner with her and her husband before driving another 60 miles home (by myself) only to drop off my luggage and drive another 20 miles at midnight to the airport to pick up EmCee and Little G.  By the time I picked them up, it was over 24 hours since I had slept last because of the European – American time zone differences.  I was practically seeing the horizon close before my eyes, but I had to drive them home.

And I was immediately bombarded with complaints.

  • he had no time for himself
  • he hardly slept all week
  • Little G gave him a hard time
  • all his vacation was spent catering to Little G
  • While I was in Europe, he was in Jamaica
  • He needed to book another vacation ASAP for the family, because this wasn’t a vacation for him
  • He needed to book a week vacation for himself too, by himself, because he needed a rest
  • why did I have to go to the wake again tomorrow and the funeral on wednesday
  • and it goes on and on…

Now, I never told him to go to Jamaica in the first place.  I’ve often asked him to join me in my vacation to Europe but I get told that my friends are “stupid”, “childish”, “immature”, the places I visit are “too cold”, “uninteresting” and “boring”.  Because European culture and history is so boring compared to parking his fat ass on a beach all week.  Pardon me that I asked you to move your fat, lazy ass and WALK around cities visiting UNESCO historical and religious sites.  (Oh the horror!)

So as I am unpacking the suitcases, doing laundry and putting away the clothing … I got really aggravated and angry.  He has SO many clothes that I can’t even get his tee shirts into his drawers.  It is a shame that there are poor people in this world who have nothing and he just continues to buy and buy … we have too much stuff.  We take too many vacations.  We toss out too much wasted food.  Its all waste.  I started to cry (thankfully, I was alone) because he can not distinguish between wants and needs.  I cry for those less fortunate than us, who are suffering through the bitterness of winter while I am stuffed to the brims in excess.  It disturbs me to no end.  My lifestyle is destroying my karma.

It may be never enough for him, but I have had enough.  I have a goal, a date in my mind – to change my destiny.  Wish me luck.  More tomorrow.

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He Needed To Be Taught A Lesson

I’m not sure who acts like more of a child sometimes, my 42 year old husband or my 6 year old son.  Actually, I think my 6 year old is more mature sometimes than my husband.  Tonight, he did it again.  Not LittleG, EmCee of course!

And of course, EmCee’s behavior was justified because it was a result of our son’s actions and my (emotional, bitchy period) reactions.

I came home after a long day of work, and immediately headed to the kitchen to cook dinner.  Funny how I’m married to a husband who has a degree in Culinary Science and yet, never cooks a meal!

I told LittleG, “You’ve watched TV and played video games all day at Mommy’s store, now it’s time to sit down and do your homework.  THEN you can watch TV.”

(Put on repeat 3x times)

Finally, LittleG sat down at the kitchen table to do his homework (1 math worksheet & 1 grammar worksheet).  I assumed EmCee would help him, but again EmCee is too busy to be bothered as he sat there plastered to his computer, glancing over at LittleG’s papers.

“That S is sloppy.  It looks like an upside down 5.  You’ve had an S in your last name for 6 years now, and you’ve been writing it for 2 years.  Fix it.”

(Oh here we go again, I thought to myself as I prepped the potatoes and green beans).

“That S still doesn’t look right.  Fix it.  Is there something the matter with you?  Don’t you care about your homework?” (Insert condescending, demeaning voice rising to near yelling levels).

Now, EmCee goes off into a tirade.  Obviously, LittleG still didn’t fix what Daddy wanted.  (As if Daddy should talk with his chicken scratch handwriting. Give me a break, the kid is 6 and his handwriting is good for a 6 yr old!)

“If you don’t care, then I DON’T CARE!”

EmCee picks up Little G’s folder, homework notebook, grammar workbook and THROWS them across the room.  “Since you don’t care, I DON’T CARE!”

I unfortunately, can’t stand his bullshit anymore and immediately step up to him.  Someone needs to protect LittleG.  “Who’s the child here, him or you?  What kind of example are you showing him by throwing his books?  This is the second time in a month you’ve thrown something at him to prove your point and I’m not going to tolerate it.”

“Oh, see, now you’ve got your mother on your side.”  (As LittleG starts hysterical crying).

“Mommy will you please help me finish my homework?”  He asks quietly, not wanting to upset his father.  I tell him to sit down calmly and we will finish it.

Homework is finished, but I’m not finished with EmCee.  As soon as LittleG is out of the room, I immediately rip into him.

“You’re such a bad father sometimes.  What kind of example are you showing him? Don’t you remember when your mother threw pea soup at you – it scarred you for life.”

“Yea, but I needed it I was acting like an asshole.  LittleG was acting like an asshole just now, making a jerk out of me.  He needed to be taught a lesson.  I needed to make a point and sometimes you need to make a point!” (pause) “I hate you for calling me a bad father, I AM NOT A BAD FATHER!”

(Calling him this always hits a nerve, because his own dad abandoned him).

“Oh, what am I going to regret saying that? (Insert sarcasm here,  as I referred to one of our prior arguments when he told me I was going to regret it) Why because I’m a woman, I shouldn’t open my mouth?  Am I supposed to stand here and let you abuse my son?”

“It’s not abuse, he was making a jerk off out of me. I was making a point.”

(Yea, that you’re an asshole).

“You shouldn’t throw things.  You’re teaching him that it is OK to throw things when he is angry or when things aren’t going his way.  And you wonder why we are having behavioral problems with him in school.”

“Oh, you should talk.  Mother of the year.   How many times do you raise your voice and yell at him?”

“But I never throw things.  And I never hit him.  I’m not sarcastic or condescending to him.  We all yell at our kids sometimes EmCee, it happens.  But that doesn’t make me a bad parent.”

Of course, as soon as you point out his mistakes or flaws, he can “never take the hit” as he calls it.  He will never accept blame.  He always turns it around on everyone else and makes sure to point out their flaws.  His behavior is always justified.  His behavior is always perfect.  He’s allowed to because he’s “the man” of the house.  We should respect him.

I knew the conversation was only going to get worse.  So I decided not to add any more fuel to the fire.  I let it be and ended the argument like this:

“Well if  if my behavior is that flawed, I would welcome someone pointing out to me my mistakes so that I can correct them.  No one is perfect, not even me.  So next time you feel that I am being the bad parent, why don’t you tell me.”

And I’m sure he will. He will savor every moment letting me know how screwed up a parent I am.  Now, I just have to make sure I don’t give him the opportunity to do so.

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Money: The Root of All Evil

Any so-called material thing that you want is merely a symbol: you want it not for itself, but because it will content your spirit for the moment. –Mark Twain

My husband and son are two peas in a pod.  When they want something, they are relentless, hounding until they get it.  I suppose my son is only a byproduct of my husband’s greed and lack of discipline in saying “no”.  Hubby says it is only because he grew up “poor” and “had nothing” and that he makes money and can buy what he wants.

But at what expense?

There is a point in life where you realize that there is a difference between wants and needs.  Neither my son nor my husband can seemingly distinguish from the two.  What triggered this tonight?  It wasn’t my husband this time (inadvertently it is) but it was my son’s temper tantrum over him wanting things way too much (This week I’ve been asked for pokemon cards, ps3 games, hot wheels, a bunk bed, smoothies, new sneakers and some more items which I am probably forgetting).  When I tell my son, “No” it isn’t because I can’t afford it, it’s because he already has too much – another thing will just be a waste of money as it’s tossed to the side a day later.

But I do blame my husband and it is one of the main reasons why I am bitter, resentful and unhappy in our marriage.  No matter what EmCee wants, no matter the expense, no matter how hard I will have to work to pay it off, he gets what he wants.  And he gets it RIGHT NOW.

Hubby spends money like water.  As if money grew on the trees outside our home – that we can pick off what we want, whenever we want it.  His habits are frivolous, outrageous and over the top.  After 7 years of marriage (and 9 years of living together) you would think we would have upgraded our 2 bedroom starter townhome into a growth home – you know where you raise a family!?!  But because of hubby’s spending, we can’t afford it.  (And we make enough to afford a very nice 4-5 bedroom home!)

Here’s some highlights of how he controls the money and how he bleeds me of every dime I have:

  • We’ve refinanced our home 3 times in the past 7 years to pay off his credit cards. Each time, they were over 20k.  He says he bought things for the family (well where are these “things” I want to know). If you look at his statements, they are mainly all food purchases.  (Oh right, we spent 60k in eating out?!?!).  Closer inspection, he’s paid for company lunches (and said they paid him in cash, he just put it on his card for the “miles”) he also regularly went out for $30 dollar lunches at his lunch hour.  As soon as the cards were paid off, he charged up a storm again until I screamed and told him to stop.
  • A fourth time (January 2009) I withdrew 20k in my own personal (private) savings from a injury settlement I won, to again pay off his credit card bill. He will say again it was for things for the family (I want to know where 80k in items are in my house).  And he will argue that I have a card too (which I don’t carry with me and I never use, I use my own credit cards and I pay off my own bills – with my own money from my own paychecks).
  • August 2009 his credit card was back up to 12k, which I withdrew money from our business to pay off again. Granted 4k was a family trip to Disney World.
  • January 2010 his credit card bill was back up to 18k (after only 4 months) – at that point I sat him down and told him that I was not going to withdraw more money from the business to pay off his debt.  I told him that he was spending more than he was making per month and it HAD to stop.  When he argued with me over it, I presented him with the statements and he appeared shocked it was all restaurant and food purchases, mainly. Since I refused to pay off his bills this year, the bill is slowly being paid off.  Its down to about 8k, but guess what?  I’ve taken our 10k from the business to pay it off.  He claims he is “owed” this money since he (on paper) is a partner of the business.  I say he’s just bleeding me dry.  He doesn’t work for the business (he’s got a full time job) and I am the sole operator of the daily, day to day activities. (Actually, the business would not exist without me).
  • Greed? The pièce de résistance is this: On my 31th birthday in 2008, he drove me to the mall.  I thought maybe he was going to buy me a birthday gift.  No, he wanted an iPhone.  There was nothing wrong with the phone he had, he just wanted a damn iPhone.  I hid under the escalator in the mall and cried to my best friend that I was going to do whatever it took to divorce him.  He was so inconsiderate that day, he didn’t realize I was crying, he didn’t care it was my birthday, he didn’t buy me a gift, he didn’t even buy me a card!! When we came home, he took out a 100 calorie carrot cake, stuck a used candle in it and said “Happy Birthday” – go fuck yourself, EmCee.  An iPhone is more important than acknowledging I exist?
  • His shopping habits are insane. We went to the Puma store and he bought 6 pairs of sneakers, in every color they had in his size.  Black and orange suede, black and green suede, red and white, solid white, white and green … he’s got about 20 pairs of sneakers in his closet.  Not to mention tons of dress shoes he never wears.  Jeans?  About 20 pair.  Work pants?  About 40.  Shirts – when he goes to Tommy Hilfiger he will buy every polo shirt in every color.  He takes up the dresser, a nightstand and the double closets in our room.  (Me? I share a closet with my son and storage).
  • For his 40th birthday in 2008, I bought him a brand new MacBook.  In January 2010, because Apple came out with a new model, he had to spend another $1500 to replace his. (His excuse, our son could use his old one).
  • When the iPad came out in March-April 2010, he had to be one of the first people to get one.  Because carrying an iPhone and owning a brand new MacBook wasn’t enough.
  • When the office moved in 2008 to our new location, he demanded we buy a Apple because it looks “trendy” when customers come in. Meanwhile, none of the employees (or myself) feel comfortable using a Mac. There goes another $2200 down the drain …
  • When my car lease was expiring, I wanted to look at a Ford Edge because it had the sync system and was affordable.  He told me to drive to Porsche because they were running “deals” and I would get a similar payment to that of a Ford. I couldn’t stay for the salesman to look up the inventory or the pricing (I had an appointment) but when I cam back, my credit had already been run and the car was being prepped for me.  All I had to do was “sign” the paperwork.  (He will blame me and say I wanted it, but to this day I maintain I didn’t.  Hey, I used to drive a Honda Civic for pete’s sake!)
  • When I point out to him the amount of money we’ve thrown away, he says its all my fault. I wanted to go on vacation.  I needed designer jeans (I have 4 pairs that were bought because he said I “looked hot” in them), I needed the Porsche, I needed ….
  • When I took a vacation to Europe with my girlfriends, he said he couldn’t “stay home” with our son.  So he booked a trip to the Caribbean. Not only did he book a trip, but he purchased first class plane tickets for both himself and our son and charged them (he said using points made no sense).  And purchased a 5 star, all inclusive resort.  He told me I didn’t need first class airfare, but he did, since he was flying with our son alone. Total cost of his trip? 8k plus the 1k he took for “spending money”.  Total cost of my trip:  just under 2k (again, I paid for my own trip – 1600 in airfare/hotel, 400 in spending money).

You see, it’s not that we don’t have money to afford a bigger house or to have more children.  It’s the fact that he likes to keep us where we are at so I can’t expand our family.  (Again, he doesn’t want more kids).

But what pissed me off last night was this:

I have lost my mojo.  I just don’t want to have sex anymore.  At least not with him (not that I want sex with anyone else either).  And when we do have sex, he’s so rough – it hurts.  So after I gave into his sexual whims last night … I grinned and bared it for 10 minutes but stopped him so he wouldn’t orgasm – he tells me:

“Well if you won’t have sex with me, there’s nothing I can do.  It’s not a problem, yet.  (pause) I guess I’ll just have to go out and buy more toys.  More expensive toys.  I think I hear a Corvette coming.”

Hmm… I think I hear something, but it’s not a Corvette.  The sound of divorce papers being signed.  After I come back from vacation, I will be visiting a lawyer.  I rather be poor and broke and happy – than have money with you and be miserable.  This is not a healthy marriage.  This is not a healthy life.  What the hell am I teaching my son when his own father sets such a poor example?  I have to run, run and run out of here.  As fast as I can.

And he will say the Corvette was only a “joke” but I know from his spending habits – its not a joke.  He could drive home any night with one if he wanted to financially screw me some more.

If he was a spiritual man, he might take heed of these warnings, but because he is an atheist (that’s another post) I doubt these will do much good.

“Hell has three gates: lust, anger, and greed” –  Bhagavad Gita

The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil. – Jesus

And yes, his love of money is the root of all his evil.  And he fits the other two: lust and greed.  I have a plan.  Will you see me through to fruition?

 

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