I hope you're all well, and keeping your sanity :)
It's Thanksgiving weekend here in good 'old' Canada. This year, my kids will be at their father's (today actually) for Thanksgiving dinner, and we'll all be going to my brother's for our turkey dinner tomorrow.
Wow...where to start?
Last night, my middle child called her father to ask him to help her with something that she wants to do after she graduates high school (if not in the immediate future). You see, because he works (or maybe I should say "worked") in the entertainment industry (film), she figures that he might be able to point her in the right direction. She wants to be a singer....BAD. The kid's got some chops, I'll give her that, but she knows from experience, that her father won't help anyone (not even his own child), if it means that person might get ahead, but there's no payoff for him.
She learned that lesson again last night. I don't believe it's my job to tell my children what an idiot their father is. At 13, 17 and 20, they've already started finding that out for themselves. He's the kind of person that someone summed up in a quote "I must succeed; but my friends must fail." He has a lot of money (not because he "made" it). He won't help ANYONE, not even his own mother, if it means that that person will be better off for it. NEVER. He seems to take pleasure in the misfortunes of others. He's said of his 'friends' "Everyone thinks they're a big shot." I think he's looking into a mirror with that one.
Anywho...long story short, my daughter and her father got into a HUGE fight, ending with her crying and hiding out in her room. My children have actually nicknamed him 'Alec'. Draw from that what you will.
When the kids ask him for anything, his general response is, "The court says that you guys aren't allowed to ask me for anything." What a great dad, eh? What a colossal piece of crap. About a week ago, our middle daughter asked him to go with her to get her grad pictures taken, then she had to run to the mall to get something for volleyball. His reply was typical; he declined because he thought she was trying to "trick" him into buying her volleyball knee pads. What a grand piece of work.
For years, I've told my children and my ex that I don't want his poison in my house. It's been fairly harmonious here since he left, and the only time that there's really any animosity in my house, is when he calls with a burr up his ass. He reaches out via cell phone, dumps his emotional venom and bile into the place where my children live, then hangs up, leaving someone crying and inconsolable. He's a bitter, argumentative, controlling, possessive, insecure, obsessive, Napoleonic little narcissist (he's also about 5'6" with serious "little man's disease. As a result, I don't date short men as a rule).
For the record, it's been awhile because I was busy writing "The Joy of Ex" and building another blog. Come on over and visit me at www.thejoyofex.net! :)