So You’re Still Thinking Of Me/We Have So Much In Common We Argue All The Time

This is quite possibly shaping up to be on par with the shittiest week ever.

First (actually I don’t even remember what happened first anymore, but) Z got the chicken pox. So that threw a wrench in my week like nobody’s business. She obviously couldn’t be at daycare, plus I had to pull Little E from school and daycare just in case he was carrying the virus as well, since they didn’t want him also potentially infecting a bunch of kids. So that started on Monday with a phone call from the daycare followed up with a visit to the Doctor to confirm and then a stop at the pharmacy to stock up on calamine lotion and children’s Advil.

As the week has progressed, her symptoms haven’t been that bad and she’s actually almost over it, so I’m lucky it was a very mild case since she only ended up with maybe two dozen spots and no major fever. Also, Little E never ended up with a break out so that’s a blessing… maybe. I kinda was hoping they would get it at the same time so I don’t need to miss another week of work if he gets it at a different time but beggars can’t be choosers.

Anyways now that we got the all clear from the doctor, I decided to take the kids swimming today. Just to get out of the house and get my mind off everything else that’s been going on. I packed up the kids and since my weight loss I told them I’d have to make a quick stop at Walmart to grab a new swimsuit since I was fairly certain my old one wouldn’t fit. Either way I threw my old one in the swim bag and off we went. Walmart had two mismatched bottoms without tops left in their clearance section and that was it. So I figured I’d try my old bathing suit one last time since I’d already told the kids I’d take them to the pool and I didn’t want to let them down. We get to the pool, paid, and then I got both the kids ready and got my suit mostly on, when I realize one side of my halter strap is broken. And there was no way I could wear the suit without the strap since it’s about 2-3 sizes to big now and would end up around my waist without any support. So I had to explain to the kids that I tried my best, but all we could do now was play at the indoor playground.

Oh my goodness. I have raised such kind, understanding children. Little E was just like “it’s ok mom, you tried your best” and Z was like “we understand.” So we changed back into our street clothes and the kids are now running around a ridiculously busy playground.

While I write.

Which I need.

Because so many others things are fucked up.

I got an email from my lawyer yesterday? Two days ago? I don’t even remember now. But here it is.

Yeah. After E told me he signed all final documents with his lawyer, and I forwarded that email to my lawyer, he didn’t actually sign. I even had asked him a few days ago if he signed, and he lied outright and said yes, as well as confirmed on a phone call when he said he had done it.

So I’m trying to get ahold of E and he’s ignoring all my calls and messages.

I’m so beyond pissed at this excuse of a man. I just want to be done. I have just wanted to be done for years. So I replied to my lawyer with the exact screenshot as above and pretty much asked at what point do we stop allowing a severely mentally disabled person dictate how much longer this divorce will take. Like at what point can we file some contempt case or something. He’s obviously messing with the system and delaying the inevitable and it’s pissing everyone off.

Mine and his lawyer included now.

He’s just a never ending fountain of lies. And I was done with it long ago.

So in an effort to relax I tried going for a massage that K got me for my birthday while my mom was babysitting (Oh yeah, K and I are back on friendly terms since he got out). The massage was actually very relaxing and enjoyable, so then I decided to add on a facial on a whim. I figured why not, I hardly ever have a babysitter let me live a little. So while the lady left me for 10 minutes to let a moisturizing mask do it’s thing, I wanted to check my phone to see if my kids had phoned to call and say good night to them.

WELL, lol. I sat up and leaned towards my feet where my purse was and that’s when the WHOLE MASSAGE TABLE FLIPPED OVER and I ended up on the floor 😂😂. The massage table was folded in two and I spent the better part of 5 minutes hoping no one heard (fat chance) while trying to fix the table. Let’s just say it brought back all the stress (and more) that was just released during the massage lol. And to top it all off, when I finally called my kids, I had just missed them going to bed so it was all for naught.

Then, as an added bonus, when I went to pay for it all, the gift card K had given me didn’t even work so it just made a frustrating day even more so. Needless to say, I just went home and went straight to bed.

And, because that’s not enough, K has not been answering my calls tonight and I just really want a friend to talk to right now.

So that’s life lately.


-Khalid/Young Dumb & Broke-

Figures, I Gave You Ride Or Die And You Gave Me Games/Love Figures I Gave You All And You Gave Me Shit

I’ve never felt so outright disrespected probably ever, at least that I can remember. W? He was killed. E? Never knew what he was doing. But this? This is K actively being… well just awful.

So the mess with K? Well I’ve been working behind the scene trying to get word to him. Making sure he knew that he needed to add people to his contact list and all that jazz.

Just a refresher though…
K asked me originally to track down his final check from work and send him the money. So I’m thinking he’s expecting something from me in the mail to be delivered to the prison, and therefore will want my name added to his list of approved contacts. Sounds logical right? To me it does.

Well not only was the original money order ($100 out of my own pocket just so he would have something) I sent returned to me because he hasn’t added my name to his approved list, but when I tried to get word to K about the approved contact list, because in my mind I’m thinking he must not know about it if he hasn’t already added my name… he called yesterday to basically piss all over me about it.

Saying no, don’t bother with the money anymore, keep it for him in the bank (yeah right) he’s had my address memorized the whole time…and he’ll call me when he gets out. He doesn’t want me to be anymore involved in this prison stuff.

Fuck no!

Who does he think he is? Making that choice for me, about when our relationship/friendship/fucked up life goes on hold? On the call yesterday he revealed that he’d been calling everyone EXCEPT me. And all this time, I’m writing him, and trying to do what I can to support him, and now he’s throwing it in my face. I don’t even know how, but somehow it’s my fault for trying to be there for him.

He told me months ago how his ex twisted things for him the first time he went in, messed shit up on the outside and played with some shit that screwed him over, and I was trying instead to do the exact opposite of that. But apparently he’s been calling the ex (and everyone else) and she’s been twisting my words and making me look like scum and he’s just eating it up, without a second thought. He didn’t even bother to ask me what happened between me and the ex when we chatted on the phone, he just took whatever she said at face value, even knowing that she’s already fucked him over before.

I’m like wow. You just believe everything she said point blank. You haven’t even called me. You asked me to do these few things for you and when I try and follow them through, you shit all over me.
Then you say you’ll call me when your out, like that should be some gift to me.

No thanks.

A few people have said things along the lines of guys don’t like to mix the life inside with out here and try to just do their time, then move on when they get out. People who don’t even know K and I and all that’s happened. And if that was the case, I MIGHT have been more understanding. But nope. He seems perfectly comfortable mixing the two worlds when he calls his family or friends from back home or his ex, who already messed up prison for him once. So like what the fuck.

It’s a damn privilege to have someone like me in your life and you K… just fucked yourself over. I literally would’ve been a ride or die. So to choose to push me aside? Dumb.


-Jessie Reyez/Figures-

Figures
I gave you ride or die and you gave me games
Love figures
I know I’m crying ’cause you just won’t change
Love figures
I gave it all and you gave me shit
Love figures
I wish I could do exactly what you did
I wish I could hurt you back
Love, what would you do if you couldn’t get me back
You’re the one who’s gonna lose
Something so special, something so real
Tell me boy, how in the fuck would you feel?
If you couldn’t get me back
That’s what I wish that I could do to you, you, hoo, hoo
To you, you, hoo, hoo
Figures
I’m the bad guy ’cause I can’t learn to trust
Love figures
You say sorry once and you think it’s enough
I got a lineup of girls and a lineup of guys
Begging for me just to give ’em a try
Figures
I’m willing to stay
‘Cause I’m sick for your love
I wish I could hurt you back
Love, what would you do if you couldn’t get me back
You’re the one who’s gonna lose
Something so special, something so real
Tell me boy, how in the fuck would you feel?
If you couldn’t get me back
That’s what I wish that I could do to you, you, hoo, hoo
To you, you, hoo, hoo
Figures

Mama She Has Taught Me Well Told Me When I Was Young Son Your Life’s An Open Book Don’t Close It ‘Fore It’s Done

So I took the kids to the park yesterday and as Z went off on the slide, Little E and I had our “conversation”

The whole “Why doesn’t Dad live with us?” question that he had asked me earlier in the day… I thought I had mentally prepped my answer, thought it through, and I thought I was ready to handle it in a way a 6-year-old would understand, without many follow-up questions.

I thought wrong.

We sat on a park bench and I told him that dad used to live with us and asked him if he remembers living in Kenya with him. He said oh yeah. I went on explaining that something happened between mom and dad, where dads imagination/brain made him think he was in danger a lot and at that time, his mind told him that mom was a bad person, so he hurt mom. So I made the choice that even though at the time I loved dad, I had to make sure you and Z, plus myself, were going to be ok. Because I didn’t know if dads mind was going to think up any other silly things that might hurt anyone else. So I took you, and Z and we moved out of the house where dad was, and back to Canada to live with Nanna and Nonno.

I wanted to make sure everyone was safe. And now, like I’ve told you before, dad takes medicine to help his voices go away, so he’s not scared anymore. But the medicine also makes him very tired. Which is why when he visits you and Z, he just likes to sit there and doesn’t talk much or have the energy to play with you.

This whole time Little E was taking it all in and asking a few questions here and there, but then he asked this ‘how did you disobey?’

It occurred to me that Little E STILL remembers what happened to me (he was unfortunately in the room) and also still views it as a spanking. I do spank my kids very rarely, but I don’t beat them like E did me. I think because I closely monitor what my kids watch on TV or see online etc, this was the only ‘violence’ he’d really known. So the only word he had to describe one person hitting another in any fashion, was spanking. And therefore, since I obviously don’t spank my kids for fun, he associated it with the fact that I must’ve been being disciplined for something I’d done wrong in the eyes of E. Totally reasonable though process for a 6 year old.

So I explained that (please bear with my very basic explanation, he’s 6 not 16, I had to make sure I was on his level) husbands and wives don’t have to obey each other like kids should obey their parents. Parents have to teach kids because you’re still learning and we are there to guide you. But moms and dads should be a team. Not one the boss of the other. I’m still on your team Little E, but I’m coach. There’s a difference. Ok? He kinda nodded but I think he still wanted to know what I did wrong to warrant such a ‘spanking’. Probably so he could avoid that behavior in the future and not get in such “trouble” himself.

But I reassured him that dads medication made sure that when he’s with Little E and Z, he’s ok. Meanwhile my mind is screaming out a million ‘what if’s’  And reminded him that we’re doing great and having fun living in our house with just the 3 of us.

That’s when he pulled out “Maybe I’ll have another dad one day, that would live with us!” And I said yep. (and then of course the tears welled up, seriously what is wrong with me these days) One day mommy will maybe start dating a man and then get married and you and him can talk about him being your dad. Because Little E, E will always be your dad, but… and then he interrupted and said ‘but then I could have two dads!’ With a big smile on his face. I said ‘one day, maybe.’

And in my head simply thought how much I wanted that for him as he joined his sister in the park.


-Metallica/Mama Said-

By Now You Should’ve Somehow Realized What You Gotta Do I Don’t Believe that Anybody Feels The Way I Do About You Now

This post is just some odds and ends about everything that’s been happening lately. I just don’t feel like going to deep into anything because life has been really handing it to me this week, but have I have a lot of quick updates I’d like to share.

My Grandma apparently specified that all the grandkids were to split the money from a piece of land she just recently sold, with everything else going to my grandpa. So I can expect an amazing check from her estate within the next two weeks and I have decided that I’m going to use a portion of it to take my kids and I on a cruise on (or near) my 30th birthday this fall (well that and some backyard renos… among other house fixes. I have to tear up my deck$$$ and so, fake grass here we come). I’ve never been on a cruise or on a relaxing holiday as an adult. Yes I’ve traveled a lot, but never on holiday. So I’ve decided it’s about time. I’ll get back to you in a month or so once I’ve booked it with more details.

Speaking of timelines, the divorce SHOULD be nearing the end. I feel like I’ve been saying this for about 1.5 years, but for real now, everything is agreed on and unless E pulls some random move, we should be signing within a month or two and I’ll officially be a single woman.

Next, work has asked me to start working an extra day per week. So starting in July I’ll move from 3 to 4 days a week and still have a long weekend every week. The extra remuneration is totally worth it, and I’m planning within 6-8 months to get a new car with the additional cash. Cause I still hate my junk bucket.

Plus on top of all that, Little E asked me this morning out of the blue why we don’t live with dad anymore. We were on our way into my parents house and so I told him I would talk to him about it when we had a chance to sit down and discuss it fully later today. I know he knows what happened, because he’s brought it up in the past, he used to refer to it as the time daddy gave mommy a spanking, since that’s the only way his young mind could explain it. Although its been a while since he’s talked like that. I’m not sure if he’s forgotten about the incident or if he just doesn’t get why E doesn’t live with us. I really have to think through how I’m going to deal with this.

I have to really think through how I’m going to handle a lot of stuff in my life right now.

I’m just hoping I get a redo in some areas. Wouldn’t that be nice? A rewind button on life. And yes, I do realize I have a lot of money coming my way in the next while, between my grandma dying, E’s unpaid support, and work upping my pay. Maybe Karma does exist lol? I went for a long time with very little. I sacrificed a lot for both E and the kids. I moved to the middle of nowhere with no electricity or running water for years. No makeup or new clothes or food I didn’t grow. No internet or phone…I kinda feel like I’ve earned everything that’s coming to me. Now I just have to try not to spend it before it’s in my pocket 😏


-Oasis/Wonderwall-

B*tch Better Have My Money, Pay Me What You Owe Me

$36,408.00 That’s how much E currently owes me in back pay for child support.

I’ve been trying to sort this thing out with my lawyer for what feels like forever now, and I feel like (hopefully) we’re nearing the finish line with this whole divorce. To be honest, it could’ve been much worse than how it’s gone though.

Yes, E is extremely difficult to work with and I have a love/hate relationship with leaving the kids with him, since while technically I get a break from them, I spend the whole time worrying about how he’s probably not caring for them properly, so there’s really no relief.

But to be truthful, we’ve had a fairly amicable divorce. There’s none of that “trying to get the kids against the other parent” stuff happening. One, because E just lives in his own little world in his head and that’s too much thinking on his part to try and manipulate little brains against their mother, and two, I don’t waste effort on bringing him into our conversation in my house when he’s not around. If the kids ask to call him, I let them for sure, although it’s only Z who does and maybe only once every 2-3 months. Also, to avoid conflict, my family and I have come up with a code name for E so if we want to discuss the divorce or anything about him and the kids are around (although we try to avoid that) we can use his alias and then talk freely without worrying about tainting the kids view of him.

We also didn’t have that unspoken “competition” to see who would find a successful new relationship first. Basically because I feel like E will most likely never be in a relationship again. Now don’t get it twisted, I totally think people with severe mental health issues can be in long lasting healthy relationships, but I just unfortunately don’t see that happening for E. He’s just not capable of it. As for me? I really wish him the best, and if he does find someone to marry…. I would wish them all the best like literally because they would need it, but I wouldn’t feel pressured to race to find someone myself if E was “first” to reach that milestone. To each their own you know.

But now after 3 years and 2 months since filing for divorce, 2 lawyers, and one psych ward lock up later, we’re nearing the end (again fingers crossed). Plus it looks like it will be worth it. $36,000+ worth it.

When I think of that amount… I get frustrated. I think of the standard of life my kids and I have been living for the past 3 years, while we could have been enjoying 12 grand more a year? It pisses me off. My kids could’ve had those lessons they wanted instead of chilling at home every night. Or the newest toy for Christmas that everyone was talking about instead of just new pyjamas and underwear. We wouldn’t have had to live with my parents until a year ago. Their college funds could’ve been jacked by now! It just would’ve, and apparently should’ve been much better in the past if E had paid up like he was supposed to. But since he’s a cheapskate, my kids missed out on some things that should’ve been theirs. Although in the past little while, since I finished school and got a job, I’ve been able to provide all those things on my own. And yes, the support E sends each month, although not as much as he’s supposed to send, is welcome, it’s just nice to know the kids and I would still be alright without it.

Now… I just have to plan a nice $36,000 vacation! Suggestions?


-Rihanna/BBHMM-

There’s Such A Difference Between Us, And A Million Miles 

This morning I remembered about a time I was “in love” before W. Do I think you can love more than one person in your life? Yes, we are human and feel emotions for people. But, what I felt for J should probably be classified more as an infatuation or a fling, and because I was so young, I didn’t know any better so I definitely thought I was in love. Although I definitely doodled my name with his last name for a solid month… ah young “love”

After I graduated high school, I decided it was time to get away from life here and start exploring the world. Travel is a big deal to me. Expanding my mind and discovering other cultures and just having new experiences was important. I never wanted to be someone who stayed in the province I grew up in, never giving myself a chance to learn about the world. I had chosen that I would not be an ignorant person. So straight after I bought my car I started saving up for my “trip”.

I had decided I was going to go by myself to Africa for three months. I found an organization who needed support and would host me, and after saving another 6-7 grand (flights/shopping/safari/souvenirs) I set off to Namibia in January of 2006 to volunteer in an AIDS orphanage.

It completely changed my life. It was my first glimpse of true poverty and people in real need. This was the true definition of Ghetto. We commuted into the small community of Katatura in the capital of Windhoek daily and it was terrible and beautiful at the same time. But the children…. the children were utterly captivating. They loved life despite what they were going through, yes they didn’t know any different, but they found joy in the day-to-day regardless. My first tattoo was a line from a poem I wrote when I got home to commemorate my time there and the children I fell in love with. It’s written in Afrikaans and translated says “who my love dares”… and to me it means if you love something or someone you should do whatever it takes to boldly show it. Your love should dare you and push you deeper than you thought possible.

Anyways, J was one of the long term workers at the organization that hosted me. He had grown up in the community and had overcome all that life had thrown at him, only to return and help those in similar situations. Hot right? Right.

We didn’t really connect until a month into my trip, but then it was like a whirlwind. He was writing me love notes and throwing rocks at my window late at night so we could talk. Then sometimes at night we would sneak out to the field and spend hours talking  under the stars. Well talking and making out 🙂  It was actually really romantic thinking back. He was older then me and very convincing, and even though I wasn’t technically on vacation, I wasn’t at home in my regular environment either, so I figured I should let loose and went with it. Plus he was cute so that was a plus.

By the time April rolled around, J had convinced me that we were meant to be together, and that he would find a way to join me in Canada. My innocent 18 year old self totally hung on to each word he said. This man wrote me poems and songs for me which he serenaded me with on the front porch while strumming a guitar (dreamy hey) How could I possibly think anything else?

Well, after I returned home, the emails and even a few international phone calls went back and forth for probably 6-8 months… pretty good for a long distance “relationship” at 18 years old. But then…. things just petered out I guess? I’m not even sure what happened to be honest. Over 10 years has past and well… J obviously never made it here. I never went back, although I never said I would. But we both moved on with our lives. At least I did, I never found out what happened to J, and a quick social media search has turned up nothing. I’m realizing that although I’m sure I was heartbroken at the time, possibly even cried once or twice, it’s basically been inconsequential in the long-term of my life.

I barely even remember that it happened let alone how it ended.

And maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll be at a point in my life one day where I look back and see E that way. Where I barely remember that he happened. And hopefully I’ll also forget how it ended.


-Adele/Hello-

I’ll Choose To Survive, Whatever It Takes 

Yesterday I took my kids to the zoo, where I got my first mosquito bite of the year. I’m sure no one’s a fan of mosquitoes, but I have a particular hatred towards them. When I lived in Kenya they took an extreme liking to me. I could stand in a group of people, didn’t matter how many, and the stupid insects would choose only me to bite, and ultimately infect me with Malaria. I’ve officially been diagnosed with the deadly disease on 5 different occasions, and I can tell you first hand, it is not fun, but one time in particular was much worse than the rest.

It was the first time we had moved to Kenya, and we were living in Nakuru when I began to feel ill. I’d never had Malaria before so I wasn’t sure what the symptoms were or what to do about it. Yes, I had all my immunization before I traveled, but there are many different strains of the virus and the shots cannot protect from them all. Sorry to burst your bubble.

Anyways, I became weak. So weak, because I couldn’t keep anything down (or in or up or however you want to put it, your welcome for the visual). I lived in the bathroom with a bucket because for the first 4-5 days it was coming out everywhere, all the time. I tried my best to stay hydrated, knowing how important that was, for myself and because I was nursing Little E, but it got to the point that I couldn’t even keep a tiny bit of water down. I tried drinking pineapple Fanta (in place of ginger ale) one tiny capful at a time to settle my stomach every six hours or so, and I couldn’t even keep half a grape down. I easily lost 15-20 pounds over the course of the maybe 10 days total that I was sick. If your ever looking for a great diet, Malaria is it, you know apart from the potential death part.

Finally, about a week into me lying in bed/sitting on the toilet, E suggested we go for a walk, and that all I needed was some “fresh air”. What I didn’t know at the time was that we were out of food and he wanted me to help him do the grocery shopping. And so, in his romantic fashion, he offered to carry Little E for our walk, ohhh thanks 😒. So after about a week of being literally the sickest I’ve ever been, I got dressed (barely) and started out on what was normally a 45 minute walk to the Tusky’s Supermarket a few kilometers away. Well this time… it took almost 2 hours. I had to stop every 5 steps or so to prevent myself from passing out or throwing up (throwing up what, I don’t know since I hadn’t eaten in days, but my stomach was churning). When we finally got to the store I made E go inside and do the shopping alone while I rested in the parking lot, because I didn’t want to throw up inside.

Then, because I was so exhausted, I insisted E find us a tuktuk to drive us home because there was no way I would make it back without dropping dead plus E had also expected me to carry half the groceries home?!?! Seriously? Nope I wasn’t moving. I literally sat down in the middle of the parking lot, refusing to move until he found a tuktuk to take us home. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, and for me that was staging a “sit in’ in the supermarket parking lot.

Once home, it took me two days to “recover” from the walk before I finally told E I needed a Doctor. I realized this wasn’t just your standard Kenyan food poisoning and it wasn’t getting better on its own. So instead of calling a piki piki for me to ride on to the hospital, E suggested we start walking and we would just hail one on the way. Again, I’m past sick. Past exhausted, or the point of arguing. I’m just wanting to get better and glad to be finally seeking help. So, I struggled to get dressed, puke up nothing a couple more times, and we start off on the very slow walk to the clinic.

Of course, with my luck, not one piki piki drives past us the entire time. And E just watches me struggle for an hour trying to get to the clinic instead of call any of the drivers he knows. But finally, we arrive.

The nurse or doctor or whomever draws my blood to go figure out what’s wrong but as I’m waiting, I have to go. Like GO. RIGHT NOW! So I rush across the hall to the “bathroom” which is a literal hole in the floor. Ok, fine. Since living in Kenya I’ve gotten used to the whole squatting thing, but as I frantically look around I noticed there’s no toilet paper. That’s where I draw the line. I’ll squat fine. But I have to wipe! Especially in a “hospital”? How unsanitary! So I run back to the Dr’s office where I remember seeing some Kleenex on the counter and the tech is in there so I quickly ask if I can use the tissue and grab it without even waiting for a response. I RUN back to the “toilet” and barely make it in time.

Closest encounter to shitting my pants I’ve ever had in my life.

Then, once I’ve done my business, I have to casually walk back to the office and discreetly place the tissue box back on the counter like no one knew what was happening, while totally worn out by the sheer effort of the running. Meanwhile the tech is politely pretending he didn’t notice anything, how kind right?

About half hour later, my blood work had been analyzed and the results were in.

Turns out, I had BOTH Malaria AND Typhoid! WTF! Not one but TWO deadly diseases at the same time! No wonder a walk for some fresh air didn’t do anything. I was actually dying.

Literally DYING!

Anyways, the Doctor said he’d never seen anything like it before (story of my life) and gave me a whole bunch of different medications for the various diseases and dehydration. Then sent me on my way. I refused to leave (again) until E called me a ride, for which he obliged right away. Saying things like “Oh C, you’re so strong” and “Wow, you actually were sick”. He’s lucky I was sick and tired, because I just didn’t have the energy to tell him how I felt.

Needless to say, I’ve obviously recovered, just don’t ask me to donate blood 😏.


-Muse/Survival-