My research paper is finished. That was a learning experience not having done one since high school, well over 10 years ago. It could have been better, it could have been worse. Perhaps next time I’ll devote more time and effort… oh who am I kidding? Procrastination is my middle name. Apparently it’s a family name, *wink wink. ;-) Oh well, that’s that. I’m exhausted, my head is spinning, and I feel like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. It seems to be three steps forward, two steps back with Em; regression typically occurring after any type of contact with Bub, go figure. It’s just too much sometimes. I wish he would just go away. Its wrong, I know, he’s her daddy, whatever, I wish it nonetheless. Perhaps then she could finally stabilize and know life without unnecessary chaos and drama. He’s doing that “he said, she said crap”. Filling her head, distorting her perception. It takes everything in me not to sink to his level and fire back “my side” of things. But I refuse, its beneath me and not healthy for Em. I simply told her that she knows me and knows what type of person I am through consistent decisions and actions. She must come to her own conclusions about what she’s heard because I refuse to defend myself or explain adult matters to her. This is, of course, why I work so hard to keep the peace. Because when I dare to cross him, well, all is fair in love and war. Shoulda picked her up and had him committed two weeks ago when he called me with his nonsense. Shoulda woulda coulda. I’m so flippin’ tired.

I went to see Vantage Point this weekend (high five to Alex, great minds think alike). I thought the incessant rewinding somewhat superfluous, but it was a fun and actiony flick regardless. As I sat alone waiting for the film to begin I noticed an unnerving desire to have someone there with me to share in the entertainment. Namely images of the silly boy were conjured as I imagined the comforting scenario. Perhaps my stoic cat-lady persona not as impermeable as once thought? I honestly never thought I’d need or want someone at my side again… never say never.

All right, I suppose its time. The last few weeks have not been some of my most shining examples of motherly wisdom, hence the pic in my last post. Em stayed with Bub for a week as a sort of experiment. Her behavior has been out of control, no respect, and no desire to follow directions. So we tried this out, at her therapist’s recommendation, to scare her straight if you will. Which it did, I certainly regained some much needed structure and control. But then the other shoe dropped and I’m straight back in the midst of Bubbaland crazymaking. While Em was still there, asleep thank god, he called me because he and new chick had been fighting and he was suicidal (again). I knew he wouldn’t kill himself with Em there so I told him to suck it up and go to opposite ends of the trailer until morning when I could pick her up. I didn’t want to subject her to this craziness if I could avoid it. I’m wishing I had just gone over there now and had him committed but you know how that damn hindsight is. Anyway, I of course told him that she would no longer be staying over there (well duh) and he flipped (double duh). I’m sure most rational human beings would recognize that perhaps they shouldn’t be responsible for a child when they’re so royally screwed up, but this is Bub we’re talking about. He actually said to me, “I thought we were friends and I could confide things to you without you using them against me.” My reply? I’m her mom first. (That one earned an “atta girl” from the silly boy, *blush) Anyway, he’s pissed in typical Bubba fashion and quite frankly I could care less. I’m not sick over it, I’m not stressing over it, I’m just dealing with it through uncanny steadfast resolve, which I have to admit, I find utterly fascinating. He’s throwing all kinds of crap at me; accusations, innuendo, Bubba logic, threats, etc. Yes, threats, though thinly veiled they were. In his effed up head I’m totally in the wrong here and have no leg to stand on, so if I don’t cooperate then he’ll not cooperate either. Meaning that he’ll engage in some sort of a custody battle with me. LMAO!! I just said, I understand Bub, do whatever you think is necessary. Idiot. So that’s what I’m dealing with in a nutshell. There is, of course, so much more to the story than this, but I’m tired… in more ways than one.