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10:22 a.m. - 2012-03-06
Eviction Notice

Yesterday the ex corners Wolf in the backyard and tells him, (direct quote here) "'I'm being booted out. Your mother did this to me.'"

For God's sake, the man is 52 years old and STILL can't take one iota of responsibility for his own actions. What a loser. Forget for a moment that he brought this on by being a complete fall-down guy toward his obligations to his son, let's think about this- what kind of jerk WANTS to live in his ex-wife's backyard? We ended our marriage seven years ago. I don't know the particulars (*cough* her green card *cough*) but he has remarried and has a wife in Brooklyn. And even that wasn't enough to get his ass out of my yard? So call it your way, Mikey. Your mean old ex-wife is insisting you leave. After 7 years. Just like your mean old ex-wife (after you'd reneged for almost 5 years and didn't pay a dime) asked the mean old judge to make poor put-upon you pay child support. Not alimony, mind you, child support. What a beast I am. Imagine anyone horrible enough to insist that the father of a child contribute financially to the kid's care and well-being.

And that's the only thing, you momzer. Never asked you to raise the kid. Or check his homework. Or take him to the doctor or the dentist. Or go to a parent-teacher conference. Or know who his friends are. Or provide health insurance. Or teach him a goddamn thing, not even how to pee standing up. I'll take care of all of that, gladly, you just throw some cash the kid's way so I can do wild and crazy shit like feed him.

What an astounding difference there is between my old life and the one I have now. It's not that everything is perfect, but it is sane. Take garbage service for instance. We have trash pick-up. On Monday mornings the big green and white truck comes and takes away the trash and the recyclables. On Sunday evenings Mick wheels the cans down to the foot of the driveway and when Wolf gets home on Monday he wheels them back up to the place where the cans live during the week. Once a month we send the trash company a check and in return they haul away our refuse. No muss, no fuss. Could we do that during life with the ex? Oh no, no, no. We had to hoard garbage. Mikey liked to burn things up in the backyard and court setting fire to the place. We had to stack up the non-flammable stuff and take it to the dump, but only after the stench was eye-watering and the maggots sent us a letter demanding better living conditions. Of course the deposit bottles and cans would be returned 'someday'. A 'someday' that never came. Always mess. Always hassle. Always bullshit. And it's not like we saved any money, the dump fees are prohibitive. But having garbage pick-up was too normal, too easy. We must always get in our own way and do things the stupid way.

Why fix the dishwasher when a plastic fork jammed in the door in just the right place would make it run? (Most of the time.)

Why drive well-maintained cars? It was so much more larksome and adventurous to drive a piece of shit that hadn't had an oil change in 4 years and had to be started by coasting it down the driveway and hoping like hell you could pop start it in 2nd gear! Whee! Are we having fun yet?

You get the idea.

Truly there wasn't one thing about life with the ex that made sense. Stumbles, fumbles, deliberate flubs, it just went on and on and on. Having gotten into this mess at such a tender age and adding my own foolishness to the mix by insisting on having Alex very early on in the crazy parade I guaranteed myself a doomed life. I was forever gagging on frustration and hurt. But sadly had become so accustomed to it I can only now see how astonishingly awful and stupid it was.

And now I'm the bad guy by 'making' my ex-husband finally leave home. Seven years post-marriage and the 25 years before that an exercise in humiliation and degradation on my part by trying to make a life with someone who absolutely refused to even try to do anything right, a guy who delighted in being a flaming asshole and a menace, a schnook who still will NOT accept the teeniest shred of responsibility for his own behavior or how his back-assward way of going on hurts and limits those around him, a thing (I can't call him a man) who pins his own child down and whines to him instead of coming to the backdoor and making his objections known face-to-face to me like a grown person. This tref, this useless destructive waste of space had the colossal nerve to rope his own child into his nutzoid 'Everything is done TO Mikey and nothing is EVER his own goddamn fault' sick viewpoint and try to make Wolf the monkey in the middle between normalcy and Crazyville...GAH!!!!!

Unlike my elder son Wolf sees his father with clear eyes. Wolf doesn't buy into the crazy. He sees for himself how it is with his old man. Wolf loves the order and peace and sanity of his life these days. Meals, holidays, treats, chores, all in proportion and can be relied upon. Promises are kept. Stability and kindness are the order of the day. I regret that Alex only knew the craziness, my own as well as his dipshit father's. I accept the responsibility that I didn't get him (and me) out in time. I can wish it were different, but acknowledge that Alex only knows from crazy and cannot be faulted for seeing things so skewed. It's sad, but it is what it is. No decent honorable man could possibly live in his ex-wife's backyard for seven years, let alone pout and sulk when finally told to move on and make a life for himself. But to try to make his 14 year old son feel sorry for him over the mess he and he alone made? Should I sit still over the ex's attempt to recruit another citizen of Crazyville? Nope. Not gonna happen.

I let Mike dick me over well beyond what anyone should have accepted. I know I was weak and stupid there. I lost one child to the madness, and always carry the burden of guilt and sadness over the stupid waste of my elder son living under his father's fucked up priorities- Alex is a lost cause. But Wolf? Nossir. No ma'am.

The ex doesn't get this one. Wolf will NOT be a self-serving loser like his father. Nor will he be allowed to blame me for his own screw-ups and spinelessness of character. I got a second chance to live a decent and honorable life and I'm not wasting it. I am happy. Wolf is happy. My younger son is learning to feel empowered and in charge and won't be a victim to the sad messy stupidity of his father's way of going on where nothing is ever his fault and he's just a good guy being bowed and bent by those who always, always do him wrong.

I own my decisions. Wolf owns his decisions. Neither of us had an easy path, but how many of us do? I see now how good it is and how it's possible to live well and rightly. Even when the world has dealt you a shitty hand.

Mike and Alex can go on blaming me for everything and anything, whatever. Their choice. If it brings them heart's ease then go ahead. Lay it at my feet and say I'm soooo horrible and never loved you and never tried to make things good. Be cowards forever. Mazel tov. However, I'm not picking up the tab for your lives anymore and buying into the idea I'm the cause of every single one of your life's problems. I got on with my life and I'm doing just fine, thanks.

My ex-husband is 52 years old and quite capable of making a life for himself. He just doesn't get to do it in my backyard anymore. Nor does he get to suck my younger son into the madness of 'It's all LA's fault!'

Go. Take your mess and your blame and your stupid lazy ass and GO already!


You've been served, motherfucker. ~LA


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