Sistah Pat

I changed the sheets on my bed.  Piled up the pillows and opened the windows and slept alone last night.  Must be the first time in a couple of years.  The bed and the bedroom all mine.  Big California king size bed with the sheets all fresh and fragrant and the cool night air stirring the curtains.  I slept like a rock. 

Woke up to DS’s cat sitting on my chest and staring in my face.  I’m babysitting (as usual) and he was ready for breakfast.  I have the twin’s cat that lives here (notice how I refuse to say our cat) and DS’s dog and cat while he’s in Kansas.  I rolled out of bed and they were all running around and rubbing on my ankles.  Guess I should have filled food and water bowls before I went to bed last night. 

I had a fleeting thought about how I would have gotten up, fixed my coffee and blogged about it a year ago.  How I would have found humor in the simple things that go on in my life.  It seems like it’s been a long time since I found joy and humor in the simple things.  I’m going to try to find them again.

DIL picked up the kids yesterday evening and didn’t even come to the door.  Not that I wanted to see her or talk to her but it might have been nice if she’d said “Thank You” for watching them all day and mentioned something about who’s going to care for them Monday and Tuesday but she didn’t.  Just pulled up in the driveway and sat there until I got them out the door.  It felt kind of final and I gave them big hugs and kisses when they left.  Then I watched, from behind the window blinds, until she pulled out of the drive and drove away.  Couldn’t help but notice that she must have had a wreck because the trunk of the car (what used to be DS’s car) was all crumpled and the bumper was broken.  I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.  I don’t have to deal with her anymore.

I don’t have any fears that I won’t get to see the kids.  DS will make sure that I do but I won’t have to see her anymore.  It feels good.  I’m concerned about DS having to deal directly with her.  He’s concerned about it too.  He says he’s going to set his phone to record everytime he has contact with her and try to make sure someone else is around but I don’t know how long he’ll keep it up.  It’s like everything else…he’ll do it for a month, two months, three months and he’ll start feeling like it’s okay.  Like nothing’s going to happen.  She doesn’t get crazy all at once.  It’s an obvious decline with little things piling up and her behavior getting worse and worse until she explodes.  I just hope he can see it coming.  I don’t have to deal with her anymore and that feels really good.

In fact, I’m feeling like I’m ready to make some changes.  Oldest DS is supposed to move to Florida on October 17.  I really don’t see how he’s going to do it but I’ve told him to make sure he’s ready to go because he’s not coming back.  I want my life back.  He’s been here for 1 1/2 years after what was supposed to be a couple of months.  Youngest DS, for all intents and purposes, has been living here since his nightmare began the first of June.  He’s been going home occasionally but Monday through Friday, he has to come over anyway to drop off the kids and he usually just stays.  It’s a long drive and he brings the boys out here and stays until he has to make himself scarce for DIL to pick up the kids and then he comes back.  I know he’s lonely and going through a difficult time but my part of it is over now and he needs to get on with his life.  He’s a sweet man and he bends over backwards to cook and clean and help out but he has to move on.  And I need to move on.

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself these days.  His family is gone.  His car is gone.  His job is gone.  DIL emptied the bank account, took the good car and everything she wanted from the house and left him with all the bills.  He’s out there pounding the pavement everyday while restaurants are closing right and left.  I would never have believed he’d be in this kind of situation but he is.  And he has to deal with it.  I don’t think he’s going to find any answers here.  He has to go home and begin to rebuild his life.  It hurts to see him brought down like this but I know he’ll come out stronger for having gone through this disaster.  He finally understands that he let all of this happen.  At least, I hope he sees it.  He’s so angry with what she did and how she used him and how she lied about him but I think, under it all, he knows that he let it happen.  It’s not like he didn’t know what she was.  He just refused to give up on her and thought she’d come around and be what he wanted her to be.  There was a stubborness in him that just wouldn’t listen to anyone and couldn’t see what was in front of his face.  He’s still being stubborn.  He doesn’t want to work with her or talk to her or see her.  He doesn’t want to admit that she’s won.  At least for the time being.  We all know that she won’t be able to keep up the charade forever and he needs to get his life back on track and be ready when she falls.

And, as for her, will she fall?  Probably.  I’d like to think that she’s ready to be a mother to her kids and care for them but experience has taught me that she won’t.  I try to see what the social workers see.  I know how wonderful she can be.  But it doesn’t last.  I’ve been where the social workers are.  I’ve seen her shine and I’ve loved her for it but she’s messed up time after time until she’s burned her bridges with me.  I keep thinking about what the first social worker said.  The totally biased, lying bitch that decided she was going to trust her and help her.  She said, “So I take it you don’t believe that people can change.  You don’t believe that they can turn their lives around and overcome their problems?”  I said, “I believe people can change.  I believe they can turn their lives around but I don’t believe Stacy ever will.  I’ve seen her abandon her kids and become abusive time after time and I don’t believe she will ever put her children’s needs above her own desires to party and do drugs and have a good time.”  The social worker said, “I see a woman who’s been abused and had a lifetime of bad breaks and has managed to overcome them and is trying to be a good mother and I think you’d do anything to sabotage her success.”  It just doesn’t seem possible to those who don’t know her that this lovely, charming woman can cry and talk about how horrible her life has been when the only horrible thing in her life is her own behavior.  I suppose that’s when the die was cast.  That’s what the social workers all see.  Because that’s what she’s showing them.  I’ve seen it too.  What the social workers don’t see is the other side of the coin.  The woman who uses anyone, even her children, to get what she wants.  I’ve seen that woman many, many times and the social workers haven’t met her.  Yet….

I know I’m rambling but it doesn’t feel the same this morning.  It doesn’t feel like something that I’m living with and dealing with on a daily basis.  It feels more like a purging.  Like I’m ready to get it all out of my system and begin to get my own life back on track.  I want to get where I was a year ago.  My happy little home with DH and the twins and I.  My house clean.  My bank account fairly healthy.  My health back on track.  I think I’m about ready to go there.  Just a few more things to tidy up.

10:30 update - I think I need to sew.  I’m pretty good at it, actually.  I don’t particularly like it but I always feel good when I make something that would cost a fortune for next to nothing.  It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something significant that a lot of people can’t do.  I bought fabric for a comforter and pillows for the cabin last spring…or was it summer?  Remember when I decided to do the flip-flop theme?  I need to get it done. 

The barrel chair in the RV is right next to the door.  It gets full sun almost all the time and I discovered a tear a month or so ago.  It seems that the constant sunlight is causing the fabric to deteriorate.  Of course, the fabric on the chair matches the trim around the dinette area.  I’ve done more than a little reupholstering in my time but it seemed like an overwhelming task and I’d pretty much made up my mind to just take the chair to a shop.  Still…it feels like such a waste of money.  I’ve never been shown how to reupholster.  I just start taking things apart, using the old fabric as a pattern and figuring it out.  I’ve always been confident enough to do things like that.  I think I need to do it.  I don’t think I should give in to that “It seems like such a big job” attitude and pay someone else to do it. 

I’m having that feeling today.  Instead of looking around and seeing what an overwhelming mess my house is and feeling like there’s nothing I can do about it, I’m seeing it as a challenge.  Instead of, “Damn!  There’s something else broken!”  I’m thinking, “Damn!  I need to fix that.”

I don’t know if this makes any sense to anyone else but I feel the difference.  My living room needs painting.  I know that.  I almost decided to paint this weekend but it just seemed like so much trouble.  The old Patty would have taken advantage of the men being gone this weekend, bought a couple of gallons of paint and surprised them when they got home by having it done and over with.

Point is…I’m seeing all the things I need to do instead of seeing all the things that are messed up.  I can do this.

3:00 update - DGD, Holly, came over.  Mom is “concerned” because her cholesterol level is at 244 and she wants me to try to teach her how to eat better and exercise.  WTF??  She’s TEN YEARS OLD!  How can her cholesterol level be TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY FOUR????  My God!  As I’ve mentioned in here before, she’s way overweight and doesn’t do anything but eat and watch TV.

I downloaded two of her favorite songs.  A total of 13 minutes and told her I was going to show her how to dance and do aerobics.  She loves these songs but usually sits at the computer with her face glued to the screen and listens to them while head-bobbing.  I tried to show her how to do some simple dancing and aerobics but she was NOT interested.  Barely moved her feet.  Just kind of stood around with a bored expression on her face.  I had to push her the entire time just to keep her shuffling around.  At any rate, we got through 13 minutes with me breathing hard and definitely feeling it and her not even winded and saying, “NOW can I watch TV?”  Not gonna happen, chickie.  I took her to the scales and made myself step on them.  184.5. Not good but not as bad as I thought.  She got on and they went up to 177.5.  Whoa!  No wonder my clothes are too small for her.  She’s a little girl.  She doesn’t have a waist.  Just lots and lots of belly.  I’ve tried to give her clothes before but she can’t get in them because the waistband doesn’t meet by a good six inches.

At any rate, I told her we’re going to start exercising and being more careful about eating junk.  Made a spreadsheet and entered our weights and exercise.  She seemed a little bit interested.  I fixed her lunch.  Chicken noodle soup, a turkey sandwich and an apple.  I fixed some edamame beans for myself and she thought they were cute.  Popping them out of the pod and into my mouth.  She tried one and ran to the trash can retching all the way.  Guess I won’t be able to sell her on the idea of eating them for a snack…