Bad Parenting Moment #432439

Sometimes, I amaze even myself at my ability to make myself look like a jackass, just so you know.

As a little helpful background info: T is coaching A's basketball team. Also, C has been sickish this week, and so he hasn't been sleeping well, therefore I haven't been sleeping well either. So, in the evenings, it is my custom to be grouchy and irritable, now more so than usual.

Last night after the whole supper/bath rigamarole, we are all in agreement that we are tired, so for lack of funds and energy, we make the executive decision to veg out in front of the healing powers of television. T, A, and C set up camp in the living room and were watching basketball on the TV. N doesn't care to watch basketball At All, so he and I relocated ourselves into my bedroom, so he could watch Shrek 2. Now, since I have seen Shrek 2 a few times, I fell asleep. The next thing I know, A is thisclose to my face, waving back and forth, yammering on about something I couldn't understand. As I'd just fallen asleep, this sudden commotion and in my face waving, made me disoriented, confused, as well as my usual grouchy and irritable. So, as any good mother would, I let loose a string of profanity so the household would know my displeasure at this situation. And, since I’m grouchier than normal (due to aforementioned lack of sleep), I further unleashed some more mad rantings about what was going on, etc. ONLY THEN I came to my senses and realized that A wasn't waving her HAND in my face, she was waving THE PHONE in my face

And it was Turned ON

And it had a basketball parent on the other end

And it had been right in my face during my whole tirade

Oh yeah. See, my jackass-ness knows no boundaries! It is Limitless!

Because T & C had fallen asleep, A had answered the phone (something she doesn’t normally do), because she knows that C has been sick, so we've been trying to let him rest.

The poor basketball parent apologized profusely for "disturbing" me, undoubtedly thinking that I was disturbed enough already. This incident makes me laugh maniacally just typing it out. I mean, Shit! sometimes, I even surprise myself.

I'm quite sure the Chinese government had absolutely no idea this kind of thing would happen when they gave me a baby.

Mi hermana is muy loca in la cabeza

My sister is crazy in the head.

This particular post really has no discernible entertainment value, to the best of my knowledge. Feel free to skip the whole damn thing, especially if you're already feeling depressed. It’s mostly just me sifting through my inner turmoil, and rather than screaming at the top of my lungs, I decided to just blog instead. My neighbors don’t even realize that they should be filled with gratitude. Alas. If anyone does manage to slog thru this mess and has constructive advice, it's much appreciated.

We come from a fairly normal fam, my three sisters and I. My middle sister, CJ and I have always been very close. CJ has also always been very close to my kids. Up until the past year, I would have called CJ one of my best friends. Now, I feel like I don’t even know her. Here is why:

I Do Not Understand Why My Sister Would Live With A Man Who:

Sleeps with other women
Does not have a job
Does not look for a job
Has 4 children that he neither a) sees or b) pays child support for
Has stolen the following items from her: new leather club chairs, two new TVs, one new computer with flat screen, stereo equipment, laptop computer, Christmas presents for her entire family. All of this loot was sold for money to feed his addiction
Has (on several occasions) taken her car, not returned for days, knowing that she uses that car to commute to work
Sits around her house drunk/high all day
Has stolen enormous sums of money from her, including but not limited to stealing rent checks out of the mailbox, altering & cashing them.
Has caused my sister to nearly be arrested for something that he did
Has ran up huge phone bills, on both her cell and land lines. She’s making payments on those, but as of right now, they’re both out of service.

Especially since my sister:
Comes from a good family, who has offered to support her in whatever way possible to help her out of this abusive relationship
Has so many good friends who have even offered to let her live with them, until the bum leaves
Has a college education
Has worked so hard for everything she has
Has a fabulous job that pays twice what I make, yet now she is always penniless

Where We Were a Close Knit Family, Now My Sister:
Did not even come to the hospital when I had C, whereas she threw coming home parties for A and N
Has visited our family 3 times in the past 9 months, sum total of time spent with family does not exceed 12 hours, whereas she used to spend entire weekends with my kids
Refuses to let us come visit her. At. All.
Does not call us. At. All.
Feels that we "lecture" her too much and when we're not "lecturing" her, we are unconsciously making her "feel guilty", hence the no calling/no visitation policy.

You see how this boggles the mind, eh? I have (mostly) said nothing, with the notable exception of Christmas, in which my sister came home bawling because Jock (let's just call him this bastardized form of his real name) had sold her television. Later we find out from CJ's best friend that Jock also sold All The Christmas Presents that she had purchased for her friends and family. Recently, she found pictures of him with another woman and an infant, looking quite cozy. These were dated within the last few months. Yet, she's hesitant to ask him who the hell these people are. Because that's "his private business". My ass, it is.

What's a girl to do? It pisses me off that, for now, I essentially have no sister. But, as a mother, it totally chaps my ass even more that she's completely cut my kids out of her life. On the other hand, I'm not sure that I want them around her at all when she's acting so fucked up. I have so many emotions--confusion, shock, grief, pissed-offedness, disbelief.

Sometimes, I don't like people so good.

Open Commentary to the Woman In the Stall Next Door

So, this past weekend, T and I went out to the Olive Garden (when we're there, we're family). I know some people who think they're too classy for TOG, but the Cystah Family most definitely is not that kind. We love it there: the kids like it, it's not too spendy, and it's Not McDonalds, thereby satisfying three of our most important requirements. TOG offers one of my most favorite entrees in the whole world, possibly, and that is Chicken Alfredo Pizza, which is beloved by me for the abundance of cheese and also for the abundance of garlic, Amen. We were having a fabulous time together, gorging ourselves and the baby had his first tiramisu and he saw that it was good.

On our way out, I stopped by the ladies room.

I had consumed so much water (as a courtesy to try to dilute garlic breath) and I had to pee terribly. The ladies room was eerily quiet, and I went into the first available stall and I had to pee soooooo bad, I already had the button to my jeans undone.

When I looked down.

And.

I.

Saw.

The toilet was covered in shit. Not just a errant streak, mind you, I'm talking 'bout: actual shit. Splatters, turds, spray, the works. Someone had really went all out.

Now, it might surprise you to find out that I have my own Code of Toilet Ethics and one of the hallmarks involves Flushing One's Own Product. Needless to say, this stall was obviously in violation so I moved my delicate sensibilities and unbuttoned jeans on down to the next stall. Shortly thereafter, a woman (this is a presumption on my part, as was still in the stall, so could not ascertain gender at this time) came in and went into That Shitty Stall. I was busy peeing, but the thought crossed my mind that she wouldn't stay in there long. But she did. She not only stayed in there, but she went pee in there! With the shit! In that shitty stall! Now, I do not have x-ray vision, but I didn't not hear the rattle of any paper potty covers (believe you me, I made a mental note of that). During the hand washing, Toilet Lady exited (and not with haste! no!) that stall and I managed, with effort, to refrain from any commentary on her activities, which may or may not have involved someone else's shit.

I can only conclude that she squatted above the toilet. But even so! Squatting above that? Why, Toilet Lady? When so many (at least three) stalls are vacant? How could you do that, Toilet Lady? Were you not grossed out? I am rather gagging, just typing this part. Toilet lady! Stop such behavior immediately, as it is not sanitary. The Board of Health has got my back on this, I feel certain.

From An Unexpected Source: Assvice revisited

I have written this post at least three times now and blogger has eaten each and every one. So you'll just have to take my word for it: the first time was best. Now it's lost something.

I have various and sundry acquaintances that I don’t see for months at a time. The relationships are still there, but time/distance/whathaveyou is such that we just aren’t that close. I think this is normal, but my sister assures me that it's not. So maybe I'm just an asshole where friendship is concerned. I don't know. Anyway. Another thing about me, though, is that I’m fairly open about my experiences with infertility and adoption. As such, some of my casual acquaintances know that I’m happy to discuss most issues related to such things. And, I always like to live vicariously through others adoption experiences. That is just how I am.

Anyway, a week or so ago, I happened upon Jen, an acquaintance that I hadn’t seen for two-ish years. Jen and I have never been especially close, but for some reason she chose to confide in me a bit during her first adoption (she’s now mom to a beautiful toddler girl). We chatted a bit, she shared the news of preparations for their second adoption; I realized that she hadn’t heard about my pregnancy/subsequent third kid. I was as delicate as I could be about the matter—I am still “aware” of sensitivity, to the best of my ability.

Jen somewhat shocked the shit right out of me, though, when she offhandedly mentioned, “Well, naturally, I’d much rather what happened to you, happen to me.” I was confused (it doesn’t take much, as you well know). She elaborated: “well, now we’ve adopted once, and I keep thinking that now we’ll finally, finally get pregnant.” And she was quite serious when she said this. Naturally, I handled the situation without an iota of grace (think mostly smiling and nodding). I’m a complete idiot when it comes to unexpected awkwardness in my everyday life. Really, I think I was a total dumbass. Shouldn’t I have said something meaningful in this situation? I mean, should I have? For some reason that I still can’t explain, I just felt sad for her. Maybe it’s just that infertility just sucks so thoroughly and can never really go totally away. Maybe because it seemed like she still dwelled under the "adoption is second best" mind set. Whatever. We don't see each other much, I felt it best to let it go. But I still felt lacking like a big jackass loser.

I guess I’m just surprised that the assvice of “Adopt! You get pregnant!” has been passed around so much that even some infertile women believe it.

Time Warp 1999

Let's take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Yes, we shall because it's my blog and I say so.

Some people may be envious of pregnancy (for completely justifiable reasons), but I have had adoption jealousy so much lately. I probably will always love reading/chatting about those days of social worker woes, fingerprint delays, packing lists, and referral pictures (thereby exhibiting further evidence that I am completely crazy).

It was almost exactly six years ago that we were awaiting A's referral. Yeah, I know there are those that belong to the Refuse to Wait Club (a life philosophy involving trying to take one's mind off the impending adoption, blah, blah, bullshit, blah) in adoption, but I say fuck that shit. It's my kid and I'll Wait if I damn well want to. And we wanted to. Besides, being this was our first kid, we had nothing else capable of distracting us At All, so why fight fate, I say. And since our referral was supposed to have been sent by the end of January, we were more than a little anxious. I imagine I felt close to how an overdue pregnant woman must feel, sans the physical discomfort. I hadn't resorted to X'ing off the calendar days with red marker, in the same manner as I did as a child whilst awaiting summer vacation, but I was perilously close to such madness. I spent nearly all my working hours glaring at the phone, willing it to ring. When the phone did manage to sqawk, naturally, it was never The Call I Was Waiting For. And for some reason, that made me irrationally mad at whoever was calling (poor bastards) because they weren't the adoption agency. Also, it was winter, thusly I am more prone than normal to such fits of glaring and irrational irritability and holding grudges, etc. It is due to the lack of sun and also the lack of warmth, and thereby I can't be held responsible for the extra added grouchiness. I do what I can with what I have.

Finally, the phone rang. And it was The Call! Oh my God, IT WAS FINALLY THE CALL? THE CALL I THOUGHT I'D PAID $12,000 FOR AND GAVE UP ON EVER HAPPENING! GOD HAD NOT FORSAKEN ME IN MY ADOPTION PURSUITS AFTER ALL! And so here is a transcript of:

The Call That Altered Our Lives Permanently, Forevermore; Mostly For The Better

Adoption Agency: "L? It's D."

Me (hoping against hope): D! Yes. Hi. Hello. How are you? Good to hear from you! (I always sound like a total idiot on the phone, but more so a) when I'm nervous and b) when I'm speaking with an adoption professional.)

AA (with mucho gusto): "I'm looking at a little picture!"

Me (am now feeling confused): "Um, what? Yeah, huh?"

AA: "A picture! A little square picture of your baby!"

Me: "Really? Wow. Um, wow!" (Should have considered more appropriate conversation fodder/responses for this call ahead of time. But didn't. I do think to start writing things down at this point. Which surprises me, as that is a very levelheaded thing to do, and we all know that levelheaded is one thing I am not.)

AA (now with a healthy dose of skepticism, almost certainly with regard to my parenting abilities, as I'm sounding like a total dumbass): "Yes, L! This is The Call! Your referral is finally here!"

Me (light finally dawning in stupid head): "Oh My God! Tell me all about her? Like, how old is she? Where is she? What's her name?

AA (chuckling, sounding slightly mollified): "She's 6 months old, born August 9, and living in Jiangxi province her name is Xian."

Me: "She's a Leo! I knew she'd be a Leo!"
Me: "But, uh, what? Her name is what?"

AA (confused by my dumbass changes in subject): "Xian, her name is Xian."

Me: "What? What is it" (I'm not kidding, I was really having like some sort of bizarre deafness, induced by my own idiocy. )

AA: "XIAN. XIAN."

Me: "Okay! Yay!" (immediately I hang up the phone to call dh! Because he's still Waiting! He doesn't know he doesn't have to Wait anymore! And I must tell him right now!)

###

Me: "The adoption agency called! We have our referral! We have a baby girl waiting for us!

T: "Oh my God, tell me all about her!"

Me: "Oh. Um."

T: "What? What? How old is she? What's her name?"

Me: "I can't remember. I can't remember what she said!"

And with that, I burst into tears, disgusted with my own tendencies to behave like a complete lunatic. I REALLY COULDN'T REMEMBER! First the deafness, now this! God, I remember feeling like a total nutcase, and typing this out it is clear to me that I really was. Because you know what? Even though I couldn't remember anything D had said during The Call, I'd completely spaced out the fact that I'd written everything down. Yep. Oh, yeah. That's how tightly I was wound. So T had to call the agency back and try to bluff his way through the fact that he'd married a total asshole, without jeopardizing our adoption.

And yeah, despite all that, I'm still jealous.

Pettiness Revealed

So during the most recent bout of Enforced Time With My InLaws, T and I have been seeing a lot of his relatives than I would like to. As an extra irritant, he rarely tolerates my snarkiness with regard to them, however the last time T and I saw his niece M (19) a few weeks ago, we separately came to the suspicion that she might be pregnant. This was based upon several different things: 1) a sudden engagement; 2) a rather large chest when she has always been most vocal about how disgruntled she is with her flat-chestedness; 3) she's almost waif-like in her thinness and was now a bit punchy; and 4) she was wearing baggy clothes when she is always dressed in Slightly Slutty. M was also quite chatty with my kids and she is never like that. Thusly, when T and I met up in the Jeep, we could hardly contain ourselves from the speculation. T is not overly observant when it comes to pregnantness, but my Subfertile Girl radar is always on when it comes to such matters and it never lies.

We were feeling fairly sure in our assessment.

So sure in our assessment, that T broached the subject with MOL shortly thereafter. Naturally, MOL was completely astonished that we I would think such a thing (as usual, she presumes I'm being a troublemaker) and that of course M was not pregnant and MOL knew this for a fact. Despite his usual abstinence from snarking on his family, T did join me in my speculation of how she could have independently verified my niece's non-pregnant status. T did not go so far in this rare moment of snark to join me in my "doth protest too much" sentiment. As a devout pentacostal, MOL is Very Uptight about premarital sex and Extremely Uptight about unwed motherhood, and in turn T is Very Uptight about making fun of his own mom. And so that concluded our discussion.

Until today.

Guess who just announced that she's knocked up? God, you guys are good! HaHa, MOL! See, I wasn't being gossip-y, just observant, when I thought she might be pregnant. Yep, T's niece will be having a rather hasty wedding after all, as my Subfertile Girl pg radar is once more proven to be infallible.

I will won't refrain from telling you about how my SOL freely tells other unwed/pregnant teenagers that they should "give their baby up for adoption" to a "more deserving couple". It's my sincere hope that this situation will put an end to that particular spiel, but I'm not getting my hopes up or anything.

Naturally, given my own suckiness in the reproduction department, I always feel a bit ahem, lacking when others get pregnant so effortlessly. I don't wish T's niece any ill-will--she's a fairly responsible girl, but she's so young and inexperienced and she's got a rather difficult path ahead of her. I mostly feel sorry for her, but yet one can't help but be reminded of the unfairness of it all.

For this, be thankful

My God, but 60 degree weather in February is just unheard of UNHEARD OF I TELL YOU. At least in my neck of the woods it is. It is beautiful outside. And just in case I haven't mentioned it previous, I have a hard enough time keeping my mind on my own goddamned work during normally dismal winter weather. I have no need of additional distractions, thankyouvery much. Particularly since I'm working on The Project That Stinks Worse Than Satan's Shit. And That Project makes me More Easily Distracted Than Usual.

So thusly, it has resulted in the following scintillating IMs spewing forth from my computer:

To my friend Cyn, at about 1:55, barely a half hour after returning from lunch, late like usual
Me: God, it is only 2! 2! It feels like it should at least be 2:30.
Cyn6197: I know, I know.

To my friend Cyn again, at about 2:45
Me: OMG! It is not even 3! What is it with this day!!! What?! What?
Cyn6197: I know, I hear you. It's the weather. You can't help it.

To my friend Cyn another time, at about 4:03
Me: OMG! Is 5:00 never going to get here ever? EVER? This is the slooooowweeeessstt day so far this week. Thank God the week is over. Or over soon. But not soon enough.
Cyn6197: I know, I know, you've said that before. I already told you, it's the nice weather combined with a long work week makes for a very slow Friday. We already talked about this.

As you might imagine, it's nearly 4:30 so I'm preparing to IM Cyn again, just to bitch about the time. She is such a good friend.

This is the Tuesday of My Disappointment

Okay, many of us know that today is Groundhog Day, here in the US, a somewhat bizarre yet endearing tradition that I can hardly believe the rest of the globe hasn't jumped on the groundhog bandwagon. For some reason known only to me, I look forward to Groundhog Day from January on. Maybe because my first boyfriend's birthday was on Groundhog Day, but that is a different matter entirely.

So, have I mentioned that we live in a house we can ill-afford, but we do happen to have 10ish acres of land that belong to us and us alone. And, currently, on that 10ish acres of land resides our very own GROUNDHOG! who has set up residence in a small brushpile at the edge of our back yard. As you might imagine, the very existence of this groundhog set the wheels a-turnin' in mah mind. And here is what I came up with:

Enough of this Punxsutawney crap already. The groundhog has taken up squatters' rights with us now for at least a year, so I figure that he/she (we haven't determined the sex of the groundhog) owes us some entertainment. So, the kids (must note that I was mildly surprised that the public school is failing dismally in its Groundhog Education, neither kid knows shit about this day of days) and I would happily ensconce ourselves upon the deck (well beyond the reach of an irritated groundhog) and dh (he's on his own) could Gently roust out the groundhog and we could determine FOR OURSELVES whether said hog saw or did not see his/her shadow. But alas, T promptly vetoed this plan because of a) the groundhog wouldn't care for it one little bit; b) groundhogs can be mean; and c) groundhogs can have rabies. I do not know if I believe him on either of those last two counts, I think he may just be Lazy.

While I realize that this is probably for the best, I still can't help but feel a little sad--yet another instance of how I excel in the creative development phase but suck at the actual execution. Wouldn't it have been fabulous to have had our own Groundhog Day celebration (okay, so maybe the hog would've disagreed)? And so, that is how we at Casa Cystah again have to take Punxsutawney Phil's word WRT length of winter this year.

Sigh. Life is full of these little disappointments.