So I have a sinus infection. Or something. I really didn’t care what they label it as long as they give me that shot in my butt that will make me feel better.
Until they gave me that shot in my butt this morning, and OUCH! But hopefully, I will feel better within the next 24 hours. And by “feel better,” I mean, “less likely to smack someone.” I feel like I should post a sign on my office door or send an automated text/phone call/email response that says, “I’m congested and my throat hurts, which means that I haven’t slept well for days. Proceed with caution.”
My kids certainly haven’t gotten the memo. Last night when I was dragging myself to the bed, MonoBoy stopped me and asked, “Can you make me a quiz for my test tomorrow?” NOW? I could have been working on that two hours ago when you shooting hoops in the driveway. Why didn’t you mention it then? Is it that you LIKE to see the veins in my temple bulge from trying to restrain myself from choking you? Is that it?
Yeah, we all know that I made him a quiz and then stayed up while he answered the questions. Then I rearranged the quiz questions for him to take it again. Sick or not, I am a mom and that’s what we do. Unfortunately for the people who I work with, this could cause problems for them if they approach me before I consume large quantities of caffeine.
Hey, I’m just being honest.
The only thing that could complete my week is another, let’s call it a conversation with my ex. We had a couple of those over the holidays.
The problems started the week after Christmas. I guess he was still mad at LoverBoy for something, so he called MonoBoy and invited him to spend the night. He told him to invite some friends along, which he did. The problem is that my boys are a mere 13 months apart in age. Their pool of friends overlaps, so when you invite LoverBoy’s brother and friends to spend the night, but you choose to leave him out, he’s going to find out about it. And even if he wouldn’t have wanted to go, he definitely wants you to WANT him to go. Am I making any sense here? Simply put, he shunned his own son to hurt him, and it worked.
Words were exchanged between them, but I decided to stay out of it. My favorite saying is “I don’t have a cat in that fight.” Unless you consider my kid as my cat, and then I did, but whatever. I stayed out of it.
Until a few days later. MonoBoy had a basketball game. (High school sports don’t care about things like Winter Break.) The game was on a Friday, which is a day off for my ex, so I knew there was a huge chance that he would be there. I was a tad bit nervous about it because his step-mother and step-niece were attending the game. He HATES them. Even more than he hates me. I watched the door for the entire first half of the game. Even thinking about it now makes my heart race. I was that nervous. He never showed up. Whew! I wasn’t going to have to get yelled out about inviting his enemy to the game. An enemy, which I might point out, loves his children and visits them and buys them gifts and treats them like grandchildren. She’s evil, I tell you. (Of course, The Ex once told the children that she killed his father. Put a pillow over his face in the hospital when he was in a coma. A coma that the doctor said he wouldn’t wake up from and probably wouldn’t survive the night. Surely, it was murder.)
After the game, when I checked my phone I had several missed calls and texts from him. Apparently, he thought that the game was at 4pm, not 1pm, and somehow, that is MY fault for not telling him. I must be evil, too. Let the yelling begin. He ranted about how he thought that we were getting along, so he was shocked that I would play such mind games. Dude, trust me, if I had known that you were confused about game times, I wouldn’t have almost had a stroke every time someone walked through the door of the gym. After I finally had enough, I responded that I thought we were going to work on being more positive toward each other. That didn’t work, so finally I said that the reason we get along is because I choose not to text or call him with everything that he does that bothers me. If I did, he would have heard from me right before New Years.
Well that backfired on me. Then my phone really blew up with texts and missed phone calls while I walked around HEB trying to grocery shop. Then he showed up at the house to find out what I was talking about. After all, he’s done NOTHING wrong. He bends over backwards for his kids. Remember Thanksgiving when he changed LoverBoy’s flat tire?
Oh yes, I forgot. It’s that guy thing where they do ONE chore and suddenly, they do it all. Like the time in 1997 when he washed dishes while I breastfed, and to this day he will claim that he washed all of the dishes during our marriage. I guess we didn’t eat much?
Anyway, he finally left me alone.
He missed LoverBoy’s soccer tournament the next day. Not sure why, but I didn’t get any screaming phone calls or abusive texts about it. He missed MonoBoy’s basketball game the following Tuesday. No word from him. That Friday, he decided to grace us with his presence at a soccer game. Since he was sitting next to me, I assumed that enough time had passed and all was forgiven. It was cold and raining, so I asked him where his blanket was. (You know, the waterproof blanket with the school emblem monogrammed on it that I bought him for Christmas. The one that he dropped hints about, so I bought him one. Like no ex-wife EVER.) He turned an evil gaze to me and said something stupid like, “Well, what happened was I packed it to bring it to a basketball game, but I didn’t get the memo that the time had changed.” Really?
Then he launched into his tirade again about me not telling him that the school-published game schedule was wrong. I thought that the mom next to me was going to smack him for me. She said, “Shouldn’t you take that up with the school?” Then she muttered under her breath, “He is a grown-ass man. You are not his mama.” God, I love her. So I said those same words to him. He ranted on. Finally, I asked him why that game mattered when the other basketball game and three soccer games the same week didn’t? He ranted on. STOP, JUST STOP. I’VE HAD ENOUGH.
“Oh, Queen B wants this to stop. I guess we’ll just stop then.” Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. The only thing that he forgot to do was stick out his tongue at me. Or maybe he did it behind my back. Who knows?
All I know is that I want it to stop. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!
Both the sinus infection and the conversations with The Ex. I wish they had a shot for THAT.