Monday, May 11, 2009
Can I just say I hate Mother's Day? It's just another example of my life of Low Expectations--it's a cruel game, really, but it seems as though the less I expect, the less I get. Perhaps I should just start demanding luxurious and opulent gifts--that way, when the mark is missed, what I end up with will still be relatively nice.
I really do have low expectations. We don't have money to spend on frivilous things like flowers and candy. I should have known when Rusty asked me what I wanted that I was being set up for disappointment. A note for future events: don't ask me what I want. Don't ask, then there will be no expectations. You can give me a pat on the ass and you won't have broken any kind of implied promise.
You know what I wanted? I wanted the day off. I said, QUOTE: "I don't want to have to clean up after anybody, do their laundry, cook their food, drive them around, break up their arguments or adjust any attitudes." Score, right? I didn't ask for diamonds. I didn't ask for a party. As nice as it would be to have my children perform some random GESTURE of appreciation, all I really WANTED was to be free of that responsibility for some 18 hours or so.
Naturally, I was scheduled to work. I couldn't afford to ask for time off, given the fact that I've had all of one shift per week for the past 3 weeks now. But at least it was a short shift. I was scheduled to get off at 5. I emailed Shitfoot to remind him of the schedule, and he called that afternoon to clarify when we'd exchange the kids. He ranted for 5 minutes about how HE hates being at the mercy of MY job. Thanks, asshole.
In the meantime, Rusty notices that I've got an on-call til 7pm. "That's going to be too late to take you out, so we'll have to do that some other time." "Whatever. It's your call." [Aparently, in his world, this translates to: "I love that idea, thanks!"]
Work was a pain in the ass--apparently it was "Take Your Brat Shopping Day"; or perhaps clueless dads everywhere thought since mom likes shopping, dragging all the kids along would be the perfect Mother's Day outing--and the moms were so pissed off that they were being forced to watch their kids AGAIN that they decided to ignore them completely and let dad see what it's like. I've never wanted to beat a stranger's child so much in my life.
But I got out in time, and went to get the kids. So yes, I did have to spend half my afternoon playing chauffeur. Another aggravation, since I had mentioned I didn't want to have to do that crap. But fine, whatever. I pick them up and it's business as usual. They have nothing for me, they don't even remember what day it is. Fine, I can't expect Shitfoot to give a damn. By now it's late and I'm starving, but Rusty is at home, so we have to go home before figuring out what's for dinner. I mean, since I had told him explicitly that I had no intention of cooking, I thought it was pretty clear that I would not be cooking. We get home and he's asleep on the couch. He sits up and tries to wake up a bit while I sit down and check my email before we turn around and get something to eat. The cubboards are empty because I'm so broke right now and hadn't been to the store in a few days, but DS starts foraging anyway. "Stop, we'll go get something in just a minute." "Did you have something planned for dinner?" I asked Rusty. "No." he murmurs. The computer is locked up and not connecting to the net, so I have to restart it. I get up and go to the bathroom. When I return, DS is in the cabinets again. "I told you to stop, we'll get something in just a minute, just let me check my email." "Can I go outside?" "I just told you we're leaving in just a minute." "I just want to go outside." "Fine, but stay near the car where I can find you on the way out. It'll be just a minute." A minute later I get to my email and find nothing. I check my bank balance and close it back down, grab my purse and tell DD "Let's go."
We leave. DS is nowhere to be found. Fuck him, we leave without him, and when we get to the restaurant, I text Rusty to inform the Brat that he is now grounded for ignoring my one VERY SIMPLE REQUEST. Minutes later he's calling me and demanding to know where I am. He's pissed off that I went to eat without ____. <--- here's where I get lost. I fed myself and my kid(s). His decision to "take me out some other time" did not get my kids fed. Were we supposed to skip a meal just because it was inconvenient for him? I wasn't even really mad until he came stomping into the restaurant and yelled at me for "walking out without telling him". Where did he think I was going? I had made it very clear that I would not be cooking. What else should I have been doing, knowing full well that none of us had eaten? Aparently he hadn't eaten. He could have volunteered that information when I asked him what the plan was for dinner. Instead, he was completely disinterested in any conversation or decision making.
So sue me. I didn't pitch a fit and demand to be pampered. I was hungry and went to get something to eat. I aparently didn't 'do it right'. Why it was my responsibility to take care of is still something I don't understand--is that not the one simple thing I asked for? He didn't have to take me to anything fancy, he didn't have to take me anywhere--I just fucking needed food and I didn't want to have to make it myself. So fucking complicated, I know.
I really do have low expectations. We don't have money to spend on frivilous things like flowers and candy. I should have known when Rusty asked me what I wanted that I was being set up for disappointment. A note for future events: don't ask me what I want. Don't ask, then there will be no expectations. You can give me a pat on the ass and you won't have broken any kind of implied promise.
You know what I wanted? I wanted the day off. I said, QUOTE: "I don't want to have to clean up after anybody, do their laundry, cook their food, drive them around, break up their arguments or adjust any attitudes." Score, right? I didn't ask for diamonds. I didn't ask for a party. As nice as it would be to have my children perform some random GESTURE of appreciation, all I really WANTED was to be free of that responsibility for some 18 hours or so.
Naturally, I was scheduled to work. I couldn't afford to ask for time off, given the fact that I've had all of one shift per week for the past 3 weeks now. But at least it was a short shift. I was scheduled to get off at 5. I emailed Shitfoot to remind him of the schedule, and he called that afternoon to clarify when we'd exchange the kids. He ranted for 5 minutes about how HE hates being at the mercy of MY job. Thanks, asshole.
In the meantime, Rusty notices that I've got an on-call til 7pm. "That's going to be too late to take you out, so we'll have to do that some other time." "Whatever. It's your call." [Aparently, in his world, this translates to: "I love that idea, thanks!"]
Work was a pain in the ass--apparently it was "Take Your Brat Shopping Day"; or perhaps clueless dads everywhere thought since mom likes shopping, dragging all the kids along would be the perfect Mother's Day outing--and the moms were so pissed off that they were being forced to watch their kids AGAIN that they decided to ignore them completely and let dad see what it's like. I've never wanted to beat a stranger's child so much in my life.
But I got out in time, and went to get the kids. So yes, I did have to spend half my afternoon playing chauffeur. Another aggravation, since I had mentioned I didn't want to have to do that crap. But fine, whatever. I pick them up and it's business as usual. They have nothing for me, they don't even remember what day it is. Fine, I can't expect Shitfoot to give a damn. By now it's late and I'm starving, but Rusty is at home, so we have to go home before figuring out what's for dinner. I mean, since I had told him explicitly that I had no intention of cooking, I thought it was pretty clear that I would not be cooking. We get home and he's asleep on the couch. He sits up and tries to wake up a bit while I sit down and check my email before we turn around and get something to eat. The cubboards are empty because I'm so broke right now and hadn't been to the store in a few days, but DS starts foraging anyway. "Stop, we'll go get something in just a minute." "Did you have something planned for dinner?" I asked Rusty. "No." he murmurs. The computer is locked up and not connecting to the net, so I have to restart it. I get up and go to the bathroom. When I return, DS is in the cabinets again. "I told you to stop, we'll get something in just a minute, just let me check my email." "Can I go outside?" "I just told you we're leaving in just a minute." "I just want to go outside." "Fine, but stay near the car where I can find you on the way out. It'll be just a minute." A minute later I get to my email and find nothing. I check my bank balance and close it back down, grab my purse and tell DD "Let's go."
We leave. DS is nowhere to be found. Fuck him, we leave without him, and when we get to the restaurant, I text Rusty to inform the Brat that he is now grounded for ignoring my one VERY SIMPLE REQUEST. Minutes later he's calling me and demanding to know where I am. He's pissed off that I went to eat without ____. <--- here's where I get lost. I fed myself and my kid(s). His decision to "take me out some other time" did not get my kids fed. Were we supposed to skip a meal just because it was inconvenient for him? I wasn't even really mad until he came stomping into the restaurant and yelled at me for "walking out without telling him". Where did he think I was going? I had made it very clear that I would not be cooking. What else should I have been doing, knowing full well that none of us had eaten? Aparently he hadn't eaten. He could have volunteered that information when I asked him what the plan was for dinner. Instead, he was completely disinterested in any conversation or decision making.
So sue me. I didn't pitch a fit and demand to be pampered. I was hungry and went to get something to eat. I aparently didn't 'do it right'. Why it was my responsibility to take care of is still something I don't understand--is that not the one simple thing I asked for? He didn't have to take me to anything fancy, he didn't have to take me anywhere--I just fucking needed food and I didn't want to have to make it myself. So fucking complicated, I know.
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