Showing posts with label son's girlfriend. Show all posts
Showing posts with label son's girlfriend. Show all posts

Back to Bitchy Business

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We took a brief hiatus and it can't really be blamed on any one person. I've been swamped with dramatic, ridiculous. and utterly useless bullshit, myself.

My son and his girlfriend. It's really unbelievable and I'm probably going to wind up like Norman's mother on Psycho... stuffed in a rocking chair seated in front of an upstairs window, that is. He's picked the wrong girl, wrong, wrong. At best she's dysfunctional at worst she's the epitome of "psycho girlfriend." She misrepresents conversations between family members to get them pissed at each other and it's more than just lying. It usually has a tiny piece of truth in it that makes it sound so plausible, so believable. I didn't realize how bad it was until his best friend walked in on her telling my son about something I had said. She made it sound angry, bitter and pissed off when the friend had been in on the conversation and knew I was joking and it was lighthearted and innocent!

She doesn't like my youngest daughter. She doesn't like anyone my son cares for. Each friend, sibling, and family member has taken their turn in the barrel with this girl carefully orchestrating conflict and resentment.

After months (and months) of remaining quiet, of not really being honest with him about the things we know she's done, we finally let fly with it. We had banned her from the house and I was tired of seeing this anger in him seething under the surface constantly. It was obviously time for some honest communication and I think it's at least started the ball rolling in the direction of a break up, but it's too soon to tell for sure.

Have you ever seen one of those movies where the girl smiles and takes the rejection but then you see her late looking twisted and disheveled over it? Another friend saw this girl (as she came storming into my house because my son had overslept and they take her car back and forth to school - where she has managed to make sure all their classes line up together - at COLLEGE) as she came in one morning and said he barely recognized her. He wasn't even sure it was her, that she looked "strange."

As we are slowly finding out, no one in the family really likes her. Friends don't like her. They don't like what she has done to him and I'd liken it to "Saving Silverman" except that crazy girlfriend was changing him in semi-productive ways (dress nicely, get a job, stop hanging out with your loser friends) - my son's girlfriend wants to cripple him emotionally, make him completely dependent on her and completely cut him off from friends and family.

Worse yet, my son is 19 and immature in more than one way. He can't figure out how to extract himself from the relationship and refuses to acknowledge that they are having trouble, to me or his father, at least. I've found out through other friends about dramatic arguments where he tries desperately to calm her down while she throws herself down in the middle of the road sobbing hysterically. His coping mechanisms have been less than stellar or healthy but, as most boys of that age, his ego is writing checks his maturity level isn't capable of cashing. He thinks he's in control of the relationship. He thinks she's so desperately attached to him that he can either fix her or at least control the damage and havoc she wreaks.

He obviously doesn't want to see her because he makes NO effort on the weekends to see her at all. He hangs around the house or does things with us... which I think is a little odd considering he's 19... he should be out with friends doing things. But, he rarely does. She's ran off almost all of his friends except one and that one he only sees when the friend comes here to visit him. This friend runs all over the place doing things, he's taking a semester off of college to create an extensive business plan to present to the university he attends as a remedy for student housing. Seriously. He's a guy with a lot going on and there sits my son... in a perpetual funk. Hanging around the house, working on homework or playing guitar.

I'm well aware that I can't fix this. That my son is going to have to figure this one out on his own. All I can do is minimize what goes on under my own roof. It's frustrating.

Thanks, and all that stuff

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I love this time of year. I love the baking and the decorating, and the holiday cheer.
I am thankful that I have more than just my little family of six to cook for - we invited my son's girlfriend's family of 5 to join us. I feel even better about inviting them when I found out that they are so tight on money now that they were planning on just "skipping" the big dinner this year.

But even as I take the pies and cheesecakes out of the oven, I'm already stressing over Christmas holiday gifts and getting everything ready. I really feel like I owe it to my children to have a perfect holiday since ripped them away from their extended family and friends and drug them 3000 miles away from their home.

I know that they don't care about the "perfect" holiday, but I still feel crappy that I am not able to give them the "perfect" holiday.

Mother guilt. I'm even thankful for that today!

What's Your Bitch? Edition 5

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Today’s bitch is brought to you courtesy of the letter “P”. As in Pain in the ass.

Youngest Stepson is in the 8th grade this year. All he has talked about for the past 3 years is the field trip that he gets to go to at the end of the year in Washington D.C.

A few weeks ago there was a meeting at the school and he came home with all of the paperwork that needed to be notarized. Only the first 42 kids to hand in their paperwork and pay for the trip get to go. So we hustled around, got things notarized and sent him to school with a check.

Fast forward to today. The Husband’s bitch of an exwife calls him at work to tell him that she wanted to be consulted before the boys did something. (I think it’s cute that 11...12? years after their divorce and she wants to be consulted about things. Finally! Go, you!) He asked her what she was talking about. She said the D.C. trip and Oldest Stepson playing baseball. What? This field trip is like the pinnacle of the kid’s middle school career...has she not heard him mention it eleventy-billion times in the past 3 years?

Husband asks exwife if she had a problem with the trip or with the baseball. She said no but she wanted to be consulted about these things. Here, have a big glass of “shut the fuck up”, you heifer. Husband told her that he felt like the boys were old enough now (almost 14 & 16) for it to be their job to let her know about what they wanted to do the same way that they told him and that if she has an issue that she can let them know.

The boys have figured out that their mother is the last person to ask about doing anything because she can’t commit to doing anything with them because of her new family. They stay here during the school week and go to her house on the weekend. Any extra-curricular stuff, braces, lunch money - we pay for it all AND do 90% of the toting to and from activities. Basically, she wants to be consulted so Husband can blow smoke up her ass and let her feel like a participating parent. Oh, how I want to scrub her face off on the sidewalk.

I told her he should have asked her if she wanted to pay for half of the trip or the baseball fees. He said he got too wound up and hung up before even starting that conversation.




I would like to let everyone know that women, as a general rule, are fucking crazy.

I am still very close with a man I dated when we could both still be called kids. It's been over a decade, and he's still friends with me and a few other women he's dated (amazing how you can remain friends when the guy isn't a freaking stain).


That being said... his current girlfriends want to be friends with me. Like, let's hang out and do our nails kind of friends.


His ex-wife thought I could be her new BFF, like Paris Hilton without the STDs and crazy.

One woman said my soul spoke to hers- I'm pretty sure my soul told her soul to FOAD.


The other might just be worried that I'll steal him since we're possible future roomies (she didn't mention she wanted to get to know me until he told her I'd suggested his next place should allow for large-breed pets).

Is that normal? Am I reading too much into this? Is there a secret girl society that wants to be friends with the ex to get in better with the S.O?

I wouldn't want to be friends with anyone who my current love interest had seen naked or kissed, much less fucked and actually cared about them in a meaningful way. Call it possessive if you want, I call it avoiding conflict. Because if that woman is prettier than me, skinnier than me, taller than me, or has a better rack than me, I'm going to freak out about her in my head until I drive myself crazy.


"They just want to know you because you mean so much to me." Honestly I think they want to know the secret to still being around over ten years later- which is to be honest to the point of brutal and don't get mad over the little shit.

But, I smile, I make nice, and I avoid any subject that has to deal with him, sex, or whether or not I know that trick he does with this tongue.



I had a whole bitch composed and ready to go... but then I watched last night's Project Runway finale and I just had to change my bitch for the day!

OK, I realize that in the grand scheme of things who won Project Runway is pretty damn minor. There are many more things that I could put my time and energy into. But Project Runway is my secret shame; my secret guilty pleasure. I am NOT a fashionista. Hell, most days I'm hard pressed to get into the shower and do my hair before 1 or 2 in the afternoon. I certainly do not profess to know high style, or to be any sort of fashion icon. Unless you count my mad flip flop, short and t-shirt wearing skills as fashion. Then hell yes, I'm your gal.

But for the love of ham and cheese on rye, what the hell were those judges thinking voting Gretchen the winners of Project Runway? They said that she had her finger on the pulse of what is on trend, and made a line of ready to wear clothes that women everywhere would want. I'm sorry? What? The woman sent down high waisted pleated pants, and a crop top that I didn't even want to wear in the 80's when that sort of trash was popular. And she had several outfits with BLOOMERS. Show me a woman in today's society who wants to wear crocheted granny panties out in public! Granny panties are not flattering on anyone. I don't even wear granny panties and I'm fat!

So yeah, war, famine, plague in Haiti - those are bad... but dammit people! GRANNY PANTIES!




Wow, I don't know where to begin. I'm fortunate enough that none of my exes are anywhere even remotely close to my plane of existence. The last time I did the whole "this is my stepkid" thing it took me two years to pack him off to military school and about 4 months for him to fuck that opportunity straight up the ass. We haven't heard from him in years and I figure he must be somewhere between prison and a crack house by now probably within a block or so of my ex-husband.

I agree with Winnie that granny panties suck even though I don't watch Project Runway. ;) I've lost 7 pounds in 3 weeks and while that is a good thing I'm reticent to discuss it because I have no idea when I'll finally blow the whole thing and gain it all back and then some. How is that for some schizophrenic bitching, girls?

Meanwhile, it's Halloween weekend, I have a party planned for tomorrow night and my enthusiasm is waning as we speak, ahem. My sinuses are totally out of whack and it looks like my son is coming down with a cold. Oh, and I'm going to have to dye his hair jet black so he can pull off Elvis circa 1967 with his girlfriend (*cough* *cough* shoot me) going as Priscilla of the same era. My daughter has invited one of her best friends over tonight because I adore the girl (she is totally worthy of being a junior bitch and since you guys know my daughter you can imagine what her evil redheaded twin bf is like) and she's probably going to be the only thing that keeps me from forcing Elvis out of the building while I make Priscilla disappear Vegas style. As in, too many gambling debts and the mob is on to your ass, Vegas style.

Much love and bitchyness to you and yours, it's 10am and I need a fucking drink.