Out of sheer curiosity Hubs and I began to price small planes. We’d never actually considered it before but with Champ’s unwavering interest in aviation we decided to look into it. They’re actually not too bad. I mean they’re not super affordable, but they’re really not too much more than a decent used car these days. We’re also right around the corner from a small airport with hanger space available and a local flight school.
At first we were just kind of joking about it, but the more we looked into it the more it’s becoming a real possibility. If Champ really wants to become a pilot I think it would be invaluable experience for him to own and even rebuild his own small plane while he goes through flight school.
Of course this is all several years down the road and being just about 4 years old he could change his interests a million times before he needs to figure out his career. Although he’s been quite adamant about it even for being so young and even before I explained the significance of his namesake. The boy just loves airplanes and always has. He has more immediate inspiration aside from his name too. Great grandpa was an aircraft mechanic (Great grandpa did all the things. Seriously. A natural jack of all trades) and grandpa was involved in the Civil Air Patrol for years before leaving California. If we can reasonably afford it, I see no reason not to support his passion even if it ends up being more of a hobby than anything else.
Besides Champ’s general interest, getting my pilot license has always been a bucket list item for myself. I had the opportunity in my teens, but I chose to participate in 4H instead. I don’t remember why 4H seemed like the better option at the time, but missing the opportunity to fly has always been one of the things I often kick myself for as I’ve matured. I dismissed it entirely in my early adulthood because I didn’t have the energy or the finances to pursue it. Now that I do… why not?
I guess we’ll see where it goes over the next year or so. Before I can dedicate any finances to flying I have to finish my degree on the ground first. lol.
Last weekend finished out our last full week of summer break. Little is off to first grade this year, and Champ is starting preschool. Already… I can’t believe two of my Littles are off into the big wide world. It seems like just yesterday I was snuggling with infants and now they’re growing up so fast I don’t really know how to take it all. lol.
We celebrated the end of Summer with a loosely planned get together. Many of you know that Hubs and I made amends with his ex-wife and became quite good friends all around several years ago. She, her current husband and kids come over quite frequently. More recently her brother has also taken an interest in renewing his relationship with Hubs. So Hubs’ ex brother in law basically. lol. He and his girlfriend also joined us over the weekend.
We all had a great time. We joked about the circumstances a few moments and then continued on discussing life, sharing stories and just generally having a good time with one another. Bro-in law even brought over an entire case of Girl Scout Thin Mints for us, and popsicles for the kids like any good uncle should really. lol.
Of course all of this happening on the heels of a recent spar with my own ex and his current wife made me reflect on it all. It also made me a little bit sad. I guess the fact that I’ve never reached peace with my ex is really quite a testament to the horrible toxicity of the relationship over all. I’ve accepted that there will never be peace between he and I. We can go for years without interacting, but the moment something hits the right nerve everything explodes again even if it’s as random as an email address being hijacked for SPAM or innocently ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time while visiting my parents. The wounds are still festering on his end and any opportunity he has to let me know he usually does. If not him reacting to some perceived slight, his wife will create drama over absolutely nothing trying to get a rise out of him and a reaction out of me.
Our quiet lulls between fights is about as peaceful as it will ever be in regards to the end of our relationship. I never had much of a relationship with his family so I’m not missing anything in that regard, but it would be nice if I could safely appreciate their positive albeit extremely brief impact on my young adulthood without fear of the world crashing down around me, accusations being hurled or drama being created.
Maybe it is a bit unorthodox, but I’ve never had any issues repairing relationships as long as they’re mutually healthy. I’m thrilled that Hubs has been able to repair the bonds he had with his ex and her family. Both she and him knew their marriage wasn’t a good idea from the get go and the end of the relationship was difficult, but not devastating. Once we all grew and matured a little bit it was easy to take ownership of our missteps and reestablish boundaries forging new friendships. I love his “other” family and I’m happy to call them our friends.
Just because things don’t work out romantically or in a marital sense doesn’t mean you immediately stop caring about someone. If the love was real the relationship can be repaired even if it takes on a different roll in your life and I think it’s beautiful when it happens. Hubs and his ex were great friends. They really love one another, but they weren’t good partners. They needed different strengths in their partners to thrive, which they found at the expense of their friendship. Which really hurt for both of them. Now, having their friendship restored, in addition to their stable partnership they’re both thriving. Hubs is a completely different person. He’s more open with me, he’s more confident expressing his feelings when we have a disagreement… I mean… it’s like a weight was lifted off of him, and it makes my heart soar to see him so happy.
On the flip side… when things are not healthy, and the love was one sided or all together nonexistent there isn’t any reason to pursue anything further, friendship or otherwise. It will just hold you back and hurt everyone involved. At that point it’s sabotage not nurturing and no amount of Thin Mints can change that.
My children are all highly intelligent, fiercely independent, curious, creative and tenacious problem solvers. Each and every one of those qualities are invaluable for navigating the adult world. I love watching their little minds grow and celebrating their successful solutions.
I don’t love spending money on toys that get dismantled/broken within a week, cleaning up constant messes, the yelling, the refusal to listen, the rules being consistently tossed out the window, the boundary testing and the sibling battle royal.
I know they are young and their behavior is all part of healthy growth and development. I love my little people and their high spirited antics. I’m also so very tired as the summer draws to a close and ready to have a break during the day again. lol.
This morning they all woke up several hours earlier than usual and decided to “help me” with my morning chores by letting the dog outside. Nobel intentions to be certain, however the dog wouldn’t go outside. Being my smart little problem solvers, they discovered that they could herd him with the dining room chairs and so they did… all the way into the back yard. Every single dining room chair. Out. Side. In. The. Back. Yard. before I could even get dressed and out of bed to see what they were into. Less than fifteen minutes really.
Not only did they decide to drag the chairs outside to accomplish getting the dog outside, but they then decided to drag the metal chairs across the concrete patio rattling like the dickens at 9am in the morning while yelling and screaming at one another as my children do. Hearing the commotion obviously I flew out of bed and ran outside in my jammies trying to figure out what the hell my children were doing and why.
All before 10am, and this among other things is why I desperately need a kid break. I am so proud of them and I know how all of the qualities that make them exceptionally difficult kids will make them super successful as adults once they figure out the value of rules and respect for authority anyway. Getting them to that point… may kill me. Lol.
The frustration is real as the final pieces come together in the mess of 2015-2019.
I had the opportunity to hear the truth about The Girl in Yellow and I didn’t take it because I was screening calls from local numbers. If they didn’t leave a voicemail I didn’t answer or call them back. *facepalm*
It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d answered the phone anyway at that point in my life. I wasn’t emotionally equipped to deal with it in the midst of everything going on with my mom and being away from my husband. It probably would have gone right in one ear and out the other or triggered a bunch more repressed trauma.
I guess I wasn’t meant to really know, and I’m okay with that. I’m leaning toward it being bullshit anyway. I mean I know my memories are valid, but I’m fairly certain at this point that my ex just made up his own involvement in it all to eventually discredit me later.
It is what it is, but being aware of the missed opportunity is frustrating all the same. But I’m done ranting about all of this mess now. None of it really matters anyway. At least now that it’s committed to the page it won’t be festering under the surface.
Stalker Pants stopped reading my second rant in. I’m hoping she stays away for good this time. Hoping, yet doubtful. Denial is a hell of a drug. She’ll probably always be trying to discredit me in one way or another. As long as she isn’t on my property or harassing me when I visit my parents I don’t care anymore. It doesn’t change the truth of what happened to me and I don’t have space for anyone who believes her lies or half truths in my life anyway.
Plus, it’s time to get the kiddos ready to start the school year. I have more important things to do.
Still ranting… almost done.
There is a difference between cowardice and refusing to give energy to someone behaving like a petulant child. Remember that?
Why I’ve never yelled at or confronted you over the years as we’ve bumped into one another? It’s not cowardice. It’s a little thing called:
You don’t deserve the minimal amount of energy it takes to type this out, I certainly am not going to give you any more by meeting with you or replying to your unwarranted messages. Trust me, Pants. As much as I would love to get my teeth fixed for free and see you lose your medical license after an assault charge you are not worth the time nor effort. You’re like three times my size in height and weight. I’m not going to “win” in a physical confrontation, but I sure as hell can survive. Bruises fade and bones heal. I’m not the least bit concerned about you harming me physically or otherwise. You lost the privilege of face to face conversations the moment that knife punctured my tire and knocked you on your ass in my parents driveway.
You really need to make up your mind with the accusations by the way. Am I a coward for not confronting you in person, or am I a stalker who’s following you around everywhere?
Truthfully, I’m neither. I’m a woman who’s so very fed up with your bullshit and disrespect of my very reasonable boundaries. You know, like: don’t fucking vandalize my property and terrorize my children by throwing a damn temper tantrum just because you didn’t get to see my face when you rattled off your nonsense accusations.
Still ranting as I continue to connect the dots and pull pieces together from 2015 forward…
So there were actually two break in events at my apartments while I lived in Ohio. The first was in November somewhere around the 10th, and the second was the night of April 30th into May 1st (a Sunday night into Monday morning)
I have no idea who is responsible for the November break in. The kids and I were at the store and came home to find a condom wrapper by our unlocked sliding glass door.
Obviously not being home my daughter couldn’t have seen my ex and identified him for that incident. I’m pretty sure it was actually the maintenance guy who was fired shortly after using apartments at his leisure when tenants weren’t home.
The break in in April/May is when we were home and she saw him. That’s the one I mistakenly told police happened around the 6th and that is the event which has caused so much lasting trauma effects.
I’m clarifying that now because I went back through my blog stats and realized I had some views the specific date and time I also got a few phone calls from numbers I vaguely recognized in quick succession. I’m waiting for the phone company to verify my suspicions so I can’t say for certain who those numbers belonged to yet, but I have a fairly good idea.
I got the calls on Thanksgiving actually, sitting in the car with my husband as we were delivering an old photo of myself and my ex to the park where we first encountered one another. I was trying to burn it, but it wouldn’t light lol. We tried several times before we finally gave up and headed for home.
I believe my ex’s wife was referencing that (November) break in vs the one in April/May when she claimed to have an alibi which I’m sure he did. I know it wasn’t him in November, and I’m not surprised in the least that they were with his family around the holiday.
Hubs and I expected it honestly and spent the weekend with my family in Cincinnati vs our apartment to avoid running into my ex and his family.
I have an entirely separate incident in October/November that I can’t be certain was anything more than a dream I’ve referenced, but the police have never been involved in that incident. They were involved in November and May.
I’d honestly forgotten about the November thing all together until I was comparing dates and posts and stats. I’m not irrational or unreasonable but it’s been a long time of various miscommunications with highly charged emotional events. This is why I blog. To have a record of all these things so I can put the pieces together after the emotional wave passes.
Now if she wasn’t referencing November and claiming May… my initial assessment stands. I believe my daughter. She’d never seen him before, picked him out immediately, and identified the clothes he was wearing that I also remember very clearly.
The truth really doesn’t matter. The police aren’t going to/can’t do anything about it so long after the fact. I’ll deal with my trauma and address it as necessary. Here or otherwise.
Last night as my Hubs was getting ready for bed, the Littles were running around the living room playing a game. Little had a blanket and she was charging back and forth across the living room with the boys hanging on for dear life at the opposite end of the blanket. I’m not sure what the imaginary scenario was, but they were having mostly harmless fun. Little would dash left and right attempting to whip her brothers around and the boys were just having an absolute ball. As things progressively began to get more rowdy I gently scolded Little and told her to calm down before someone got hurt. She didn’t really listen.
Then disaster struck. Little whipped the boys around just hard enough that they both lost their grip on the blanket and tumbled over head first into their rocking horse style motorcycle. Crash managed to bounce off the rockers fairly unfazed. Champ on the other hand, snapped off one of the rear view mirrors with his face resulting in a chipped tooth and two inch gash across his bottom lip which immediately started pouring blood everywhere. And I do mean EVERYWHERE.
As soon as I saw his face I knew that he needed stitches so I set about dragging poor Hubs out of the shower to watch the other two kids while trying to keep Champ from bleeding everywhere and getting him dressed enough to get to the ER. Thankfully we live less than two miles from the closest ER so as quickly as I could get him in the car we were there and he was whisked into triage, covered in blood from head to toe with a damp washcloth on his face. Champ was covered in blood, I was covered in his blood, Hubs was having a panic attack at home because he’d never seen so much blood coming from an injury to one of the kids, Little was bawling when I left because she accidentally hurt her brother, Crash was bawling because Champ was “broken” and holy hell was it an entire thing.
Champ actually did surprisingly well through out the entire ordeal. He cried when it happened and he cried when they were stitching him up, but otherwise he was his normal calm collected self. Really the only reason he cried as they were putting the sutures in was because they covered his eyes with a washcloth and he couldn’t see. If he would have had his eyes open I think he would have been completely fine. They gave him a popsicle when he was all finished and he said thank you and walked out the door like a pro. Since he’s my sensory kiddo I was expecting a lot more crying and fighting especially as his lip started to numb from the anesthetic, but he seemed to take it all in stride. We’ll see how he does tomorrow when it starts to hurt again and he can’t take the sutures out.
After I got him all patched up, I came home and took Little out for some mommy daughter time. We had planned on going out before the accident, and I wanted to make sure she knew that even though what she did was irresponsible, it was still an accident and no one was angry with her for it. In the middle of the chaos I didn’t have time to comfort her since I was trying to tend to Champ. I didn’t want her to carry the weight of seeing her brother covered in blood and thinking that it was her fault any longer than she had to.
We had a good talk about responsibility and listening when she was asked to stop doing something especially if someone tells her it’s dangerous. We stopped for a quick gas station snack, sat in the driveway until the slowly rumbling thunderstorm passed; then I tucked her snuggly into bed. All was right with the world again.
Whew… momming is hard sometimes.
Yes, I admit this is pointless and trivial, but I’m not done ranting. I’ve got almost five years of shit to process/laugh at. I’m sifting and picking through the points I want to address vs ignore. This one is probably the last one because the other ones I’ve already addressed a millionty times before…
August. Every two years in August my ex’s wife reaches out to me. Last year I was battling my pneumonia/sepsis and cut her tf off before she even had a chance to really say much. She was upset, obviously. For a very brief while I thought maybe I was being too harsh. At least until she posted why she wanted to talk to me publicly.
I can fully admit when I’ve made a mistake and misjudged someone’s character. I’ll even apologize and retract what I’ve written/said if it’s warranted. When I’m wrong about someone. When I’m not wrong about my judgement in character I stand by my words 1000%
When I got out of the hospital and had the emotional space to return to deal with her, I asked a friend to read the public post she left for me in leu of a private conversation. I was told she wanted forgiveness so I let her have it. She still has my forgiveness, although she hasn’t altered any of her behaviors and I’m not really certain she truly deserves any… but that’s not what forgiveness is about so whatever. I don’t care how insanely bitchy she’s been during my recovery process. I know hearing/reading about how her husband abused me is hard to process/believe especially if he’s never treated her the same way. This is why I gave her a heads up before I started posting anything about it. She initially gave me her blessing too btw.
The problem I have with her, is her irreverent disrespect of boundaries. She gives zero shits about how her actions affect anyone else and selfishly seeks to serve only herself and her agenda. After actually reading what she had to say vs just hearing about it second hand I actually laughed out loud. “Oh well I recognize that you went through some trauma, but I’m not looking for forgiveness. I just want to make myself feel better by telling you that for no apparent reason. Let me just violate all the boundaries you’ve set by sliding into your DMs and fucking calling you to admit I was wrong about your PTSD.” That’s basically what she said which proves my original assessment of her character 100% right. AND SHE POSTED IT NOT ONCE BUT TWICE.
It isn’t about you, it’s about me. Twice. After violating my requests to leave me alone.
I can admit that I struggled with respecting boundaries in the past as well. I never had them growing up and went through quite a learning curve to catch up to most other people, but I learned and adjusted my behavior.
Let’s go back to running into my ex’s family while I lived in the same town as a good example: before my diagnosis and recovery if I ran into them I’d probably have approached them and tried to start a conversation or at least sent a letter or made a phone call. Y’know… kind of like my mom did the entire time I was dating their son. Lol. That’s what I was taught. That’s the example I had growing up, which isn’t very healthy or respectful at all.
NOW: I understand how unhealthy and disrespectful that approach is, and wouldn’t dream of doing something so ludicrous. Even though I’d really like the chance to have a conversation and/or apologize in person for my poor behavior and misjudgment of their character in my book I’m not going to interrupt their lives for my own gratification. If they want my apology face to face and happen to see me in public they can approach me. Otherwise, it’s live and let live.
The same, however, does NOT go for you Ms Stalker Pants. You’ve proven yourself to be violent and destructive both physically and emotionally toward me and I do not want to speak to you in public, in private, via messenger, comment or email. So don’t even try.
If I’m really wrong about your character, despite repeated evidence to the contrary: prove it. Respect my boundaries. Leave me alone. Stop driving by my house. Stop creeping around my social media. Put your actions where your words are and I’ll do the same.
You know, coming up on the year anniversary of my last brush with death a lot of things have come into perspective. I’ve stared death in the face at least 11 times that I can remember over the course of my 32 years, but this most recent event really got my attention. Mostly because it was my second encounter with sepsis and the chances of making a full recovery are cut nearly in half each time you’re diagnosed with it. At this point in my life something as simple as a neglected paper cut could take me out lol. It really brings my mortality to the front of my consciousness. With that, a lot of my priorities have changed over the past year as well.
I’ve come to realize just how entirely pointless this consistent bickering with my ex and his wife actually is. I don’t care to associate with any of their friends, and I respect his family too much to bother them since the relationship ended. The memories I have of the poingnant moments which inspired me moving forward (ie the jewelry, naming my son after his dad, etc etc etc) are mine and no amount of denial can take them away. Obviously we’re never going to have any sort of relationship. Duh. I’ve spent the past several years publicly calling their son a rapist. I don’t expect any of that to change just because I’ve realized that I misjudged them and apologized. That’s just my own integrity. Yeah, I made a mistake. I’m going to apologize. It doesn’t change shit, but it’s who I am and how I was raised so I’m going to do it anyway.
As much as my ex and his wife want to continue setting me up to look like a damn fool (a trap which I’ve fallen into on multiple occasions) none of it really matters. Sure I look really foolish and kinda crazy to his friends and family. He’s even managed to discredit me as far as the police go but my friends and family the people who know me and love me don’t pay any attention to my ex, his wife or his friends. The smear campaign doesn’t affect my book sales. It doesn’t affect the relationship I have with my husband. It doesn’t affect my ability to be present and supportive for my children. It doesn’t affect my job performance. It doesn’t affect my grades. I’m not breaking any laws so the police siding with my ex doesn’t have any affect on me either. It’s unfortunate, but it’s really not uncommon.
Y’know, before I was knocking on death’s door last year I was afraid of my ex and his wife. How they might react to what I wrote, or where I went promoting my book, or where I went in general visiting my parents. Now that I’ve made peace with my own mortality I realized how trivial it all was. It’s true my ex has violent tendencies, and he has the capacity to truly hurt or even kill me. You know what? A lot of things have that capacity, but it’s never stopped me from living my life. I don’t really know why I gave him that power over me for so long, or her by proxy for that matter.
But they don’t have it anymore. It’s all about perspective.