Oh No You DIDN'T!!

This is my first post from my phone.
I gave up trying to post on my phone. Fucking pain in the ass. Beware, there is angry venting to follow:

I am having some serious issues, yo. My stepBIL got out of jail for the fucking hundredth time just before Christmas, because there is nothing like having the potential of a unconscious, naked, drug addict to make your Christmas merry. This is not an exaggeration by the way. It is what he does. Shoots up, gets butt-assed naked, and then passes out somewhere. Sometimes in his parked car, sometimes in the doorway of his trailer (when he lived in a trailer park and all sorts of people can see him), sometimes on a front lawn or maybe on my FIL's living room floor. After breaking into the house, stealing things, loading up his car and then POOF! Nakid and passed the fuck out. He was recently convicted of indecent exposure due to this habit. I don't know why he does this and I really don't care. He's an addict. He's never been a normal, responsible human being even before the drugs. But the problem isn't him. It is merely a piece of the fucked up puzzle I call the relationship I have with my FIL and stepMIL.

Before TB and I were together, he avoided his stepBro whenever he could and just lived his life. Now that I am in the picture, things are a bit different for all of us. There are children involved. The first time that my stepBIL appeared on the scene for me was summer of 2007. He got out of jail, I tried to be open-minded, he ended up back in jail. Rinse, repeat. TB and I decided that as long as stepBIL was an active addict with all the surrounding behaviors, we did not want to be around him. We did not want him in our house (or to even know where we live, etc.) We would not spend holidays with him when he was not spending them in the pokey. If he is ever able to be clean and sober for six months we have stated that we will revisit the situation. Until then, no way.

The last year has been supremely fucked up. StepBIL has been in and out of jail several times, and each time he gets out the issue is pressed by my FIL and stepMIL. We hold our ground, they say that he is CHANGED and DIFFERENT and this time it will be ALL BETTER. He's going to go back to school and get his high school diploma! He's going to BLAH BLAH BLAH. He relapses and goes back to jail within a couple of months. He has gotten thrown into jail for possession and violation of parole so many times I can't keep track without looking up his rap sheet. I'd like to add that many, many functional human beings do many, many drugs and go their whole lives without ending up in jail. He's obviously doing it wrong.

When he is out of jail, he gets a car, a place to live, money for food, clothes, etc. Even if the last car was towed and left in impound. He gets anything he needs. And right now they are buying him some land with a trailer on it so he always has some place to live when he gets out of jail. He gets kicked out of every place they put him, even though everything is paid for by his mom and stepdad. He doesn't have to work, go to school, stay sober, be a functional member of society. They give him everything and wonder why he doesn't stay clean.

All of which wouldn't matter to me, if it wasn't for the fact that I get blamed every time shit blows up. It's MY fault that we won't allow the children to be around my stepBIL. My FIL doesn't like ME. I'm not a good wife because I don't have his midwestern values. I don't cook dinner every night with makeup on and my hair done. I'm disrespectful of my marriage, looking all shitty like I do most days. I have endured years of snarky, passive-aggressive comments from my FIL. TB tells him not to say XYZ and his dad apologizes. Then does it again. I suck because I breastfeed with my dirty, nasty titties. I am a crappy mother because I put a hat on Egg when it is cold outside even though he doesn't LIKE hats. Everything is my fault. I am dividing the family by keeping away from my stepBIL. I don't make my FIL feel comfortable in my home. The list goes on and on and on....it always comes back to me. I did something wrong. (These are examples of the things that my FIL tells TB that I do wrong by the way, except for the breastfeeding which is only snarked at and not directly mentioned.)

A few days before Christmas we made dinner plans with my FIL to go to a restaurant and exchange gifts. We couldn't go to my FIL's house because my stepBIL was there, and a nice dinner out seemed like a good idea. My FIL was deciding on whether he should invite his wife, because she gets upset when he invites her to do things with us. (According to him.) Two hours before the dinner reservations my FIL calls my SIL (she is visiting us from Texas) decides that stepBIL and my stepMIL need to be at the restaurant. He states that it is a public place and we cannot stop them from showing up and sitting at the table next to us

TB calls his dad on the phone and tells him that we will not be meeting them at the restaurant. It gets ugly and TB raises his voice at his dad, something I have never heard. His dad threatens "Grandparents' rights" during the conversation if we try to keep Egg away from him. I quickly asked Google about it, and in the state of California where the biological parents are married, there are NO grandparents' rights through the court system. However, the fact that he mentioned this makes me very unhappy, to put it mildly. To have someone with fairly vast resources threaten to get visitation of your child BY LEGAL FORCE when that person lives with a volatile drug addict is terrible. To have it happen three days before Christmas really sucks balls. Merry Fucking Christmas everybody!

If you've been reading my Tweets today, you are likely impatiently tapping your toes. You want to know what I make TB do that is SO TERRIBLE AND AWFUL. You see, TB had breakfast with his father yesterday to attempt to hash out some of the crap that we have been dealing with for the last few years. During this meal my FIL told TB that he is unhappy with the things that I make my husband do, things that are My Agenda. This meal that is supposed to be about Respecting Our Decision Not To Be Around Drug Addicts and No More Badmouthing The Wife (me) is now about the things that I do that are NO GOOD. Of course!!

So? You ready for it? I made my husband go to the dentist and get much-needed dental work done. Approximately 10k of dental work because he finally had a job with dental insurance. I held him in the dentist's chair and forced root canals on him. If you are wondering, this wasn't cosmetic work. It was, "Your mouth is falling the fuck apart and you need to fix it before you are wearing dentures at age thirty." I feel terrible that he can eat and drink comfortably and is not in pain anymore, especially since I could have used that money for hookers and blow.

The other thing that I Am Guilty Of is pushing my husband to go back to school. I recently ordered his college transcript to see where he was and what is needed to earn his Bachelor's Degree. I went back to school when I was 25 and it was one of the best things I have done for myself. I'm proud that I have a college education and I want him to feel that, too. I am trying to convince him that he can start soon, taking one class per semester and I will pick up the slack around the house. It will be hard with a baby to care for, but he can do it and I can support him in achieving this goal. That's what spouses do, right?

The end result is that I am sadder than I have been in a long time. It really hurts to be disliked so much by TB's dad and stepmom. It hurts that every time TB talks to his dad he is hopeful that things will change, and then is hurt by the reality of the situation. But this time is different, because I am FUCKING OVER THIS SHIT. They are not welcome in my home, for any reason. They shall not see Egg. They shall not interfere with my marriage. They are going to have to do some serious fucking work before I will consider letting them into my life again. Fuck That Shit. I have had enough.

Procrastination

Procrastination is the beginning of many posts for bloggers I am willing to bet. I am currently procrastinating dealing with PAPERWORK. Oh how I fucking hate dealing with the mound of papers, most of which will end up in recycling anyway. Why they can't get their on their own I have no clue. Papers be gone!

Since we are here enjoying a stolen moment, I'd like to talk about May. Specifically why I only posted one single fucking time in May. Yes, it was partially Egg and taking care of the house, but mostly it was because I had something so big in my head that I couldn't think of anything else. And yet I wasn't sure if I could write about this thing. You know how Dooce once said that eventually the one person that you don't want to read your blog will read it? I was worried about my step-mother-in-law, (we'll call her Smile because I am awesomely creative) reading my blog if I talked about what was happening. And then I finally came to terms with the fact that I needed to talk about it. I need advice and support and whatever you dear readers can provide. Because this shit is driving me nuts.

Teddy Bear has a step-brother that is twenty-five years old and he has a drug problem. The kind of drug problem that lands him in jail more than he is out of jail. He overdoses, drives under the influence, steals, lies, passes out naked in various inappropriate places (seriously, this guy LOVES to get high and nude). His mother (Smile) and step-father (TB's bio dad) support him. He gets money for food, a place to live, a used car every 6 months or so (they get impounded eventually), and had not yet been forced to get a full-time job and clean up his act. He has had issues his whole life. And he has relied on his mother taking care of him his whole life. I don't think he is a bad person, I just think he is missing something that drives people to grow up and be sober.

Most of the time StepBro isn't an issue-he is in jail. But when he is out of jail TB and I avoid going to Smile's house because we don't want to be around him. We managed to do this without pissing Smile off due to creative stories and a bit of old-fashioned lying. We did not want to come out and say, "Sorry! We don't want to be around your son" for fear of royally pissing her off. Well, then Egg was born. And TB's sister came into town to visit Egg. And everyone was invited to have dinner at Smile's house. We said we would certainly be there, until we found out that StepBro was fresh out of jail and at Smile's house. Fuck. We declined. The shit hit the motherfucking fan, and eventually we received a nasty letter from Smile.

We haven't gone to Smile's house since. We have said (through TB's dad) that we won't bring our children there if StepBro is there, and the response is that StepBro is always welcome at Smile's house. TB's dad is currently limited to breakfast on Saturday mornings with us, away from his home with Smile. He has said that Smile will not even look at pictures of Egg, the first grandchild and one that she loved dearly.

So! I need your comments, please n thank you. What do you think about this? TB and I want StepBro to have some number of months of sobriety behind him before we even consider bringing Egg and Chicken around him. In addition, there is a restraining order that states StepBro is not to be with his mother, step-father, or at their house. So the cops could potentially show up and arrest him for violating his probation, a situation that I do not think is one that any child should have to witness. This seriously sucks, people. It makes my head and my heart hurt.

Bits of Fluff

Well yesterday sucked rather huge donkey balls in my opinion. Chicken had a splendid day, however I spent much of it in bed miserable/crying. My resolution for next Father's Day is to NOT be in the throes of PMS while trying not to miss my father terribly. The two do not mix well, shaken or stirred.

My father's senior picture, class of 1960. TB took one look at that picture and said, "No, you don't look anything like your dad" in his most sarcastic tone of voice.


In better news, last week my Chicken finished elementary school. In August he will become a big, bad sixth grader in middle school. I can only hope and pray that he is not scarred by middle school the way that most of us were. Goddamn that period of time sucks ass.

Ready for a short Chicken story? Yeah, I knew you would be! Well TB's stepbrother just spent a little time in a place we like to call prison. He got out yesterday, Chicken flew to Quantico, Virginia today, so the two missed meeting each other. Chicken knows that Stepbro came home a few months ago only to wind up back in the pokey within two weeks. He's not violent or anything, he just has a love affair with meth that is a tad unhealthy and tends to make him do stupid things. Like driving a motorcycle while high on meth and using his phone to text a friend. One trip to the emergency room later, Stepbro's knee will never be the same and his bike was totaled. Can't blame a guy for taking multi-tasking to the extreme, can you?

I jest, but yes I understand that for some people drugs are a serious problem and can result in very bad things happening to innocent people. That's not the point of this story. I just realized that you needed background because what are Sam's Stories without a fuck ton of digression?

So...Stepbro is stuck out in the middle of buttfuck Eqypt without transportation or the Internets at the moment. He texts TB :Hi it's Stepbro. Bring ME PORN!" Being the loving brother that TB is, he starts transferring a gig of porn onto a thumb drive for his porn-deprived brother. He also briefly considers loading up a bunch of gay porn because he's just fucked up that way and that's one of many reasons why I love him.

How does this relate to Chicken? Chicken called me as his plane was taxiing (is that how it's spelled?) to the terminal in Washington D.C. and I told him that Stepbro texted TB. I asked Chicken what three words he thought were texted after the "Hi it's Stepbro"... his answer "I'm in jail" HAHAHAHA When I tried to tell Chicken what the message really was, he was having trouble hearing me, he thought I said "corn" instead of "porn". Can you imagine a 10 year old on a plane saying "corn? he wanted corn? oh PORN! I get it, he wanted PORN!" I love my kid so much, I don't know what I am going to do without him this summer. Which reminds me, Chicken's new school gives actual grades (A,B,C,D,F) instead of random number and shit for grades. On the last day of school I get his first real report card. Straight A's bitches!!!