Cheaters and Assholes Need Not Apply

God damn it, why does it have to be so hard to write an online dating profile? Maybe because I'm not really ready to date yet? I dunno. Everything I write comes across as bitter. 

'I'm not shooting for a fairy tale, I had that and it ended badly.' Hahaha.I couldn't even write that without laughing. No, my marriage wasn't a fairy tale by any means but it did end badly. Heh. 

How about 'Cheaters and assholes need not apply.' Hmmm. That sounds a tad on the bitter side. Best save that conversation for in-person. I can't wait until a prospective date asks me why I got a divorce. I'll have to make the choice between divulging the lifetime television version or the simple 'His girlfriend thought I was a third wheel'. 

'Sell crazy someplace else, we're all stocked up here.' That doesn't sound bitter, that just sounds deranged. Maybe I can use that as a quiz question though and if someone knows what movie it's from, they win a date with yours truly. 

A few of my coworkers dared me to go into a bar and pick someone up. 'It's not hard, K, just sit down and they'll flock to you 'cause you're 40 and in a bar and obviously on the prowl.' Oh boy, that sounds like fun. I bet I would meet some real relationship quality men there....Wait, I don't think I want a relationship, I just want a 'friend' <wink, wink, nudge, nudge> so maybe that's not such a bad idea after all. 

I guess I'll put off writing that online dating profile or trolling the bars for a while though. I'm having a hard time envisioning any man not being a cheating douchebag. Thanks to the Ex for squashing any kind of trust or faith that I had in the opposite sex. Fucker. 

** I wrote this a few days ago and yesterday The Chump Lady posted "How Do You Trust Again". Maybe I'll take a second stab at that online dating profile after all. Gotta love The Chump Lady, it's like she's speaking directly to me! 

Pillowcases & Mother's Day

Happy Belated Mother's Day.

My kids came home around mid-day on Sunday so I got to spend most of Mother's Day with the two wonderful little beings who give me a reason to celebrate the day. They had an okay weekend with the ex and his skanky whore in their den of lies and sordidness. The whore isn't measuring high on my kids' radar yet, she's just a stranger who now happens to share a bedroom with their father. <GAG> They still can't remember her name. Peggy or Thomas they said. Heh heh. I will forever think of her as Peggy Thomas in my mind now.

My daughter asked a few days ago how long Daddy has had this girlfriend. I won't lie to my kids and I refuse to cover for the ex anymore, so I told them that it's been a while, a long while. I won't divulge the conversation we had but needless to say my kids aren't thrilled with their father's actions. We ended the discussion by saying that he's still their Daddy and what can you do, it is what it is. Then my daughter very sweetly laid her head on my lap, wrapped her arms around me and said, "And life goes on, right, Mommy?" Yes, honey, life goes on even when your father is an asshole. 

At bedtime last night my son asked for his 'Daddy' pillow. The 'Daddy' pillows are pillowcases with the ex's photo on them. My kids got them when the ex was deployed. They slept with them every night for a year. Now I just want to use the pillowcases as rags to clean up the closest puddle of dog piss so I stuck them in the closet. I got the pillowcase out for my son. 'I miss Daddy,' he said. 

It's times like this when the bitterness wells inside you. Peggy Thomas and her man whore deserve each other.

First Visit to S.W.'s (or Attempting to Keep the Crazy at Bay)

In a few short days my babies will be going to the house that adultery and betrayal built. The love shack of the ex and his skanky whore. Color me excited...strike that, color me crazy. The thought of my innocent kids being brought into a house where Daddy shares a bed with a woman other than Mommy makes me want to vomit...or do something absolutely bat shit crazy insane. What does an animal do in pain? Strike out. I'm having a hard time fighting that instinct. I want to show my claws, bare my teeth and do some damage. 

One of the things I still struggle with is trying to understand how the ex expects the kids to accept the skanky whore. When the ex's father had an affair, the ex hated that woman. Absolutely hated her and everything associated with her. Piece of trash, whore, slut, etc. All names the ex called his father's mistress/piece of ass/affair partner (I don't even know what to call her, putting a label on it sickens me.)

The ex was an adult when he discovered that his father was having an affair. The ex didn't have anything to do with that woman, that was his choice to make, he was an adult. My kids are little, they don't get to make a choice. They get shuttled to their dad's new place where a strange woman resides and boom.... she's a part of their lives. The ex is making them suffer through the very thing that he chose not to be a part of when he was in my children's shoes. The hypocrisy of it kills me. 

This evening somehow the kids got on the subject of me having a boyfriend. 'You can't have a boyfriend, Mom,' the kids said. 

'I can't but Daddy can have a girlfriend?' I asked. 

'Yup. We live with YOU, Mom,' they said in explanation. Then they said, 'If Dad's girlfriend isn't nice, we're going to shave her head in the night.' 

'I think she'd really like a Mohawk,' my daughter said and then giggled hysterically. 

Wish me luck in overcoming the urge to pack an electric razor in the kids' suitcase this weekend.