I have this problem with alcohol.  Its not my consumption of it .. its being around it and people consuming it.  People just don't understand what alcohol does to people, marriages, relationships ... they just don't get it.  Maybe they don't care to know or maybe they don't really think about it.  I was married to an alcoholic.  I made excuses for him to my family, I hid a lot of things that happened at home because I didn't want him to be judged.  I guess when you're married, you're supposed to protect your own.  Thats what I felt I was doing.  I was protecting.  But the thing was, was that I couldn't talk to anyone about it because then they would know.  Later on I would find out that they already knew but as far as I was concerned it was my secret that I would never tell anyone.  When I worked a second job he would pass out and I would have to walk home because I couldnt get a hold of anyone to come and get me.  I would find beer cans under the cushions in the couch, in the oven .. it didnt matter where, they were there.  He was not a good person when he was drinking.  I knew when he had a beer or many beers.  His whole demeanor changed.  He didn't care what he said to you and the way he would talk to me or the kids ... it was just abusive.  Alcohol changes people.  When him and I first got together I thought he was my knight in shining armor because see, I was told that now that I had a child no one would want me.  He did.  I thought I was in love and I thought that we beat the odds and at such a young age were married and stayed together.  When people asked me how long we were married I was proud to say 10 years .. 11 years ... whatever it was, I was proud because I wanted to be with someone that long ... for my life.  But it always came back to him drinking.  We tried the rules.  You can only drink on these days, with me, after this time ... i mean it was insane and it never worked.  I tried to just turn a blind eye to it but then my kids would be scared if they saw the beer can or he would start in on them about something and I couldnt keep quiet then.  Then it would turn into a huge argument and eventually he would pass out after he told me how worthless I was.  Sometimes it made me angry but most of the time I just felt hopeless.  I didnt want a divorce.  I wanted the dream that everyone else wanted.  I wanted to be in love and happy and married.  I worked two jobs and went to school.  It made me feel important, or so I thought but it was just an escape for me so I didnt have to deal with anything ... unfortunately I was so broken at this point I didnt think of my kids having to deal with him instead.  They turned to their friends and/or other hobbies because he just didnt care what they did.  I came home ... helped with homework, made dinner, and then off I went to work or school.  The kids cleaned and occassionally they even grocery shopped.  My friends and close ones will tell you how frugal I am when it comes to groceries and I had an 11 year old who could shop for the week on $80.00 because of what I taught her.  Great huh? No. Sad because her dad just didnt want to.  Now I cant say he was drunk all the time because he wasnt.  And I think he sincerely cared for me and for our kids ... I just don't think he knew how to do it.  He wanted to do what he wanted, the way he wanted and that was that.  He didn't care about getting a job that I told him he should look into because I was the one that said it ... he was going to do it his way.  So we lived on my income which I was totally okay with, the problem was ... he didnt do anything at home either.  I finally decided to leave.  When I did I met a man that was absolutely the dream I have always thought of.  The one that is beyond reach, except he was there ... waiting and willing for that matter.  But the alcohol still haunted me.  He wasnt a drunk by any means ... it was every now and then, but he didnt know when to stop.  Alcohol would get the best of him and he became a jerk.  I didnt want to let him go because of that, but thats what it started looking like.  I couldnt lead that life again. I would come home and there would be beer in the fridge and I would count it because its what I did.  And it would sit there for days .. because he just didnt drink like that.  And when we were home having a few drinks, we had a great time.  But everytime he would mention having a drink when we were out, I would kind of just shut down.  First, I didn't like telling him that it was because of my ex-husband and second, I definitely didn't want him to think that I was comparing.  It was kind of hard not to though because of what I had been through and most important what my kids had been through.  So one day it came up.  It was hard for it not to because he was just ridiculous and I had to say something.  I love him so much and I hated thinking that we were going to be apart.  I cried at the thought of it and just kept wondering why I wasn't enough for someone.  My ex of all those years couldnt give up drinking because it was ruining us ... I wasnt good enough and now I knew it was going to begin again.  So I spilled it.  Then the oddest thing happened.  He said he would stop.  Not stop being an asshole, but stop the drinking.  Now of course, I had heard this before and I was like, yah for how long and blah blah ... but he was aware of it and he knew that he was hurting me and he made an effort.  We dont have rules and we drink usually at home when we do ... I havent gotten the guts to venture out yet, but whats important to me is that I am more important to him than any drink.  Its new to me and it makes me happy and makes me smile and it makes me love him even more.

Me vs. Teenagers

Its hard to make your children understand why their dad and you broke up and not only to understand it, but to accept it.  When I told them what was happening and I was moving out, what happened next shocked me.  You think you know your kids and can anticipate reaction.  At first it was typical, tears and why, things like that.  We had it settled, the kids would finish the school year out and stay with me when they weren't in school.  My oldest was a junior in high school, she wanted to graduate from the same school ... my youngest doesn't like change so I didn't want to do that to him in the middle of the school year and my middle ... well I'm still not sure, I just kept her there.  To my surprise, about two weeks later my son told me he wanted to change schools and come live with me.  I was so ecstatic.  I missed my kids so much.  So he came and I enrolled him in school and everything went great.  Then the ex and I thought we might want to reconcile ... so we tried and everyone changed schools.  Not because they wanted to, but because due to some unforeseen circumstances, they had to.  The reconciliation didn't last long and he moved back out and then my middle daughter moved with him.  She is a handful, so its awful to say ... I didn't mind.  The house was chaos with her.  She is the reason I write this blog today.  Although my ex didn't do much with the kids or for the kids, it was easy to say that he was around to take some of the brunt when things turned tough.  My middle daughter now lives with me (he got drunk and kicked her out), and she has for quite some time now.  Every day it is something new. I have her medicated (she has bipolar disorder) and I try to be absolutely as patient as I can ... but it doesn't last long.  She lies, she steals, she is defiant ... out of control.  And although I have a wonderful man who stands beside me through all of this ... I still feel alone when it comes to dealing with her.  She isn't his responsibility, he's an adult, not authority to her ... actually I'm still trying to figure out what his role is when it comes to my kids.  I'm going to marry him but we're not married yet ... but thats for another blog I guess.  I can share my feelings with him and his shoulder is always there for me to cry on, but I know he doesn't understand and he doesn't share it with me in that sense.  Honestly, I'm not sure if her dad even does ... but at one time I thought he did at least and it made things a little better.  The wonderful man I have now understands that I am hurt and he shares that emotion with me ... because he loves me.  But I still feel alone.  I love my daughter very much .. I love all my kids, and with all kids they each have their own little personality.  She has the biggest personality you have ever seen.  You take her somewhere and she will make new friends immediately, she makes you laugh, she is beautiful, she has a heart of gold ... but when you get her home, she becomes a liar, a rebel, a thief, sneaky, defiant, truant, etc etc ... when I have shared my journey with her with others and they meet her, they automatically assume that I exaggerated.  You can usually point out the "bad" ones and she is a complete shock to see like that.  Even family, at first, didn't believe.  So yesterday she decided not to come home on time.  I have to work and so I was not at home.  My daughter and boyfriend both looked everywhere for her.  I was at a loss and at work, so I couldnt help.  I was not even worried which is the worst part I think, because I knew she was just being a butthead and would turn up.  It was the point, which is why I had people looking for her.  And she did turn up.  Two hours after she was supposed to.  I came in the door and told her that I was calling the police because I just couldn't do this anymore.  Let someone that is above me take care of this, because my rules aren't being followed.  She just looked at me and said "can I eat dinner first".  I answered no, because it only made me more angry that she just didnt plain care.  Of course I let her eat.  The officer arrived.  He spoke to me. He spoke to her.  She got to stay home .. this time.  It wasn't because I made an empty threat, it was because the officer wanted to make sure she was aware of what was going to happen next time.  It didn't break my heart to call the police.  I broke me period.  I've done it before because of her running away or because she was just simply out of control ... but this time was different.  I was completely done.  I literally cannot handle anymore because I just don't know what to do.  I have tried everything and I have this little 90lb child controlling everything and everyone because it all has to be about her.  We have to make sure shes home, make sure shes where she is supposed to be, make sure shes not on the phone, make sure she checks in, no computer, did she take her medicine, stop yelling at your sister, dont boss your brother around ... it is ALL ABOUT HER.  Her sister and her do not get along and I dont think its because they dont like each other, I think its because her sister resents her.  She gets all the attention ... and not directly but thats how I have to revolve my life and schedule.  I have to make sure she is busy somehow.  So I sit and I cry inside and I wonder what will happen and can I do this?  I know I can ... but being alone and doing it just makes it harder.  Even when I called her dad to tell him what was going on, he was too drunk to even carry on a conversation with me.  And not that I want to talk to him often, but because I felt a little lost in the situation, it was his daughter too and I think I was disappointed to not be able to share that mutual feeling of being lost.  But he was only lost because he was drunk.  In fact, he was probably literally lost and had no idea where he was to begin with.  It will always hurt that I couldn't mean more to him than his beer, but I know that I am better without him and so are the kids.  Maybe one day this feeling of being alone will fade and I can share the emotions with Brian together ... but for right now, its just me against a 15 yr old and the world.

and so it begins ...

I've always commended single mothers and had even more respect for them when I became one.  It's truly exhausting.  But what's more exhausting is when they look forward to going to their dads every other weekend and he cancels at least 50% of the time.  Its always because he has to work late or he reads the divorce papers like he should be reading the Bible and calls me just to tell me its "my weekend" because the holiday is coming.  I have my children all the time … I don’t mind it, not even a little.  They are my entire world. They are what make me smile every day.  They are also what make me yell every day lol … but we get through it and we grow from it.  I'm not perfect.  I hope they think I am though.

The next holiday is Memorial Day, he had them on Easter so it's obvious it's "my" holiday.  I didn't need to look at the divorce papers to figure it out.  I am excited to cook out and have a day off with all three of them, however because Memorial Day is "my" holiday apparently, according to the divorce papers, it's also my weekend.  Uh, no. Its not.  My conversation to him went a little like this: Him: you get them this weekend. Me: what's so different than every other weekend. Him: well it's your holiday, I read the divorce papers. Me: Don't you have them memorized yet? Him: just wanted to tell you. Me: I don’t think it is, it seems you want to duck out of visitation every time, don't you think I need a break sometimes? Him: I didn’t know you got a break in parenting.  WOH! STOP RIGHT THERE!! Did he just say that?  I forgot that I have them all day every day, that I am the one who makes them do their chores, brush their teeth, comb their hair, homework, hug them when they're crying, defend them when they've been wronged … I do these things, and I do it with pride.  Every day.  I don’t get to cook for just one person, wake up when I want to … for that matter I don't get to hear quiet and its okay.  But don't you DARE tell me that you didn't know that parenting had a break … HE LIVES THAT BREAK!  And when I say, "hey I think I might need a little time to myself", I'm the one pawning them off. 

So I sit here and I think.  Do I force him to take the kids because he is supposed to and I just want to be the bitch that I am or do I keep my children home because honestly I don't care if they go or not.  Then I realize.  They are my children.  They live with me and who would I be hurting by sending them there when he doesn’t want them there.  It would be them.  Why would I want them to be somewhere they're clearly not welcome.  So whatever.  They get to stay home.  That was easy. 

Now how do I tell them?  Obviously I could be the one to make their dad look like the bad guy but again, I would be the one hurting them by saying these things to them.  He gets off easy because he doesn’t have to be there to see their hurt faces or hear them beg to go anyways.  I'm always the bad guy anyways, so I should be used to it.

I not only have this great respect for single mothers but I also admire the children that are a product of this kind of home.  Although my children hate me now, they will one day know that I've done everything and will continue to do everything to make sure their world was filled with many more smiles than tears.  At least I hope they do.

I'm going to be fine

I am still getting used to being divorced.  Its kind of a hard road.  And not because I am divorced but because I failed at something.  I guess maybe you could say it was my first real lesson in not being able to change people that they have to want to change.  And unfortunately he didn't.  He liked his beer more than me.  We were married almost 15 years but it definitely wasn't a smooth ride.  I always thought it was because marriage is work .. which it is .. but it was much more than that.  I know that now.  Looking back I see how miserable I was but I stayed because I was persistent.  I used to tell people that I knew he was a good guy and that one day he was going to stop drinking and I was going to be the one that was around for that.  But I couldn't.  I couldn't stay any longer.  I would find beer cans in our box spring where he had hid them ... under the couch, in the couch cushions ... wherever he could find to hide them so that I wouldnt know he was drinking.  The thing is though, is that I ALWAYS knew when he was drinking.  He could have one beer and I knew.  He will deny this but he knows I am right.  His demeanor completely changed ... yes, even after one beer.  He wanted to argue about things that just didn't matter ... he yelled at the kids more than usual and just the tiniest things would frustrate him.  I think I knew it was time to go was when I found my oldest daughter - 15 at the time I think - rummaging through the garbage.  When I asked her what she was doing, she looked at me and said "Dad doesn't act like this unless he's drinking".  I just kinda stood there.  I told her to stop and that I would find the answer for her.  Now I knew why she was digging through garbage ... because she had seen me do it.  But unfortunately she had also seen me find the beer cans and throw them at him, I don't know if she would do that or not, she jsut wanted proof.  She was looking for an answer just like I had for all those years ... was he acting like this because he was drinking?  I think that was when it was just kinda done for me.  I stuck around and we still had our ups and downs and some might even say that the last year of our marriage was our best, but I was already done.  I had given up and my heart was no longer there.  I had tried for all those years, nothing got better .. we just got older and I just got quieter about things is all.  He wasn't always a bad guy ... we had some laughs and I think even some fun, but the thing is, is that it wasn't enough anymore.  He said that by the time he saw that he was losing me that I was already too far gone to bring back up.  But he never tried to bring me back up was the thing.  He let me sit in my depression alone.  He saw how exhausted I was working all day, coming home to work a second job and making dinner and helping kids with the homework.  Forget housework.  I didn't have the time.  He would drink and pass out and be too drunk to wake up to come and pick me up from work at 1 in the morning.  He apologized, but how many times does it have to happen before you've had enough?  The thing was, when that happened (for the umpteenth time), I wasn't allowed to drive because I had surgery.  So I HAD to rely on him, and he wasn't there.  He helped but only when he felt like it, which wasn't all that often.  He would tell me he didn't know how to cook ... or that he didn't know the school work but he just didn't get it.  He didn't get that I just needed another hand.  He sat there all day long with no job and let me bust my ass every day all day.  He drank. He played video games.  My right hand to God I even tried to find him a job playing video games.  But he did not find a job so that maybe I could breathe.  It sits on you heavy.  So I move on.  To a better place mentally.  Oh yes, mentally.  I'll save that for another blog.  I'm happier with myself, I enjoy life more and I smile a lot more.  But this divorce thing.  It still sits on me, because once again, who wants fail at something?  Its not that I miss him or that I even think about "what if" ... I have no regrets.  Well maybe one.  I regret that I didn't do this sooner.  If I had done it sooner, the pain would be gone by now and I would be even happier than I already am.  I'm in a good place and so quickly in love with another ... I'm going to be more than fine.  Me and my babies.