The Ex Factor

It seems that I’ve been breaking a lot of my own blog rules lately.

First, I said that I was going to keep my posts strictly PG, but then I go and write about swinging from chandeliers and how size really does matter and how some men can’t seem to perform under pressure.
My other rule, which was one of my original rules, was to not get personal with my posts. A few men in my past have done a dirty deed or two and I’ve vented my frustrations in my posts, but with the exception of those who know them personally, they are anonymous characters in my blog.

I am breaking another rule and frankly, I don’t give a damn if I do.
I am blowing my ex-husband out of the water!

My marriage was in no way perfect and truth be told, it was bad from the very beginning. I’m not going to relive fourteen years of misery, but let’s just say that in the end I decided I could do bad by myself and I actually ended up doing ten times better.
My career skyrocketed, my salary doubled, I bought my own home and although my boys may not be perfect, I raised, loved and supported them with minimal support from the ex-husband.

He was ordered by the court to pay a certain amount a week for child support. When he didn’t live up to his responsibility, the judge ordered his wages to be garnished. I paid for summer camps, sports, private school and took them on vacations. He has not been actively involved in their lives and even while we were together, he was an absentee father.
In his defense, I think that because he grew up without a father or a strong male presence, he didn’t really know how to be a husband or a father.

Less than a year after we separated he met a woman. I don’t know if she looked at him and saw “Sugar Daddy” or "sucker" stamped on his forehead, but she put it on him. Not soon after hooking up, they moved in together; her, her two kids, him and an unborn child.
What I didn’t know was that she had him believing that this child was his.
She didn’t work.
He provided for her and her three kids.
He paid all of the bills and even bought her a car. I didn’t care what he did with her or FOR her, as long as he was taking care of his responsibility as a father.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t holding up that end of the bargain. My oldest son Hootie was the first to recognize that the ex-husband was putting her children before his own and wanted nothing to do with him. My youngest felt a sense of loyalty to his father and continued to hold on to hope that his father would eventually see the error of his ways.

The ex-husband and his girlfriend have broken up more times that I even know. Most of the information I get comes from my son Rick (I don’t ask. He is usually venting and I’m listening and offering support). The only info that has come directly from the exes’ mouth was when he discovered the third child wasn’t his and he was putting her out (for the third time of about five… that I know of). She was a chain smoker, battled alcoholism and alleged drug addiction; she allegedly cheated on him and is a beauty school drop-out.
My friends and I joke that he went from a PhD to a GED.

We’ve also wondered how and why he would stay with a woman like that and my girls and I have come to the conclusion that she must have a golden coochie. That’s right, I said it. She must be putting it on him so good that he can’t see or think straight.
He also needs to be needed.
I’ve always been an independent woman and when the chips are down, I’m going to handle my business. The ex-hubby couldn’t accept my independence, but if he had stepped up, taken off his Underoos and put on his big boy pants and had been a man, I would have gladly stepped back and watched my man take charge. I tried, and all that got us was frozen bank accounts, tax liens, insufficient funds and our power shut off.

One Christmas, when Rick was twelve years old, I bought him a new comforter and bed set. He had gone over his dads and while he was away I went into his room to make his bed. As I was tucking the sheets onto the mattress, I began to pull out a bunch of crumpled school papers, candy wrappers and something that looked like a library book. Upon closer inspection and to my horror and disgust I discovered that it was a coffee table book with a scantily clad woman in several stages of undress.
When I looked at the name of the “model”, I quickly realized that it was the ex-husband’s girlfriend.
Each page had a different pose.
There she was in WalMart lingerie.
The next page, the strap of her rayon/polyester blend teddy had fallen off, exposing her double-A cup breasts.
Another page showed her spread eagle, exposing that golden coochie that has successfully managed to make a grown man toss aside all dignity, pride and self-respect.
When I called him to tell him what I’d found, instead of expressing his shock and disappointment in his son, he got angry with me and told me this was not the “day” to be discussing this and before hanging up, assured me that his girlfriend was a “model”. So I guess since she was a “model” that made it all okay for his twelve year old son to be looking at his nekked girlfriend and doing Lord knows what while flipping through the pages.
A male friend advised me that the ex-husband was embarrassed that I had seen his nude girlfriend in compromising positions and thus his reason for lashing out at me.

I don’t know whether the ex ever addressed the matter with our son, but I mailed the book directly to the girlfriend to let her know that I had seen the eighth wonder of the world; her golden coochie.

This is Rick’s senior year of high school and he has not been the most responsible young man. His grades have been horrible, he’s been skipping classes and lying to me.
As you already know, I can’t tolerate liars in my life; even coming from my own child.
I have busted Rick in two very serious lies this week. The first; that he was skipping tutoring and was somewhere where he wasn’t supposed to be.
The second; was that he damaged my brand new car that I haven’t even made my first payment on yet.
To make matters worse, he didn’t come to me to tell me what he had done. He instead tried to cover it up and hide the scrapes and scratches with SILVER NAIL POLISH.
After further investigation and interrogation of his friends that were in the car with him (Yes, his boys rolled on him), I called the ex-husband to ask for his support and intervention because his child might not have lived to see another day. I asked if he could please come in my house (keep in mind that I DO NOT invite him into my home… EVER) so that he and I could sit and talk with our child and find out what the hell is going on with him.
The ex informed me that once he dropped Rick off from his weekend visit that he didn’t have time to discuss the welfare of his child because he had “people” at his house.
I assured him that his girlfriend wouldn’t mind if he took the time to handle matters with his son and he told me that he wasn’t going to jump when I say jump, that I “always” ask for things when it’s convenient for me, that things are “always” on my terms and that he doesn’t have to answer to me (when I originally called him I asked him where he was because I wanted to know if he was in a place where he could talk).
I reminded him that I don’t ask him for (squat) and that I don’t need (squat) from him and that it was a shame that he couldn’t take a few minutes out of his time for his son.
Then it dawned on me; the golden coochie was pulling him. It’s like the songs of the sirens, luring him into the abyss. I promptly told him nevermind and hung up the phone.
Rick is all too aware that his father puts the coochie and her brood before him. He recently stopped going to visit his father for nearly a month. He later sat with his father and in a very mature and respectful manner reminded him that HE is not the step-child and that HER kids are.

Shortly after we separated, I tried giving the ex some sort of direction so as not to alienate his children. That backfired, so I’ve left it alone.

He was angry with me for a long time because I was the one that initiated the divorce.
He has given me his behind to kiss on several occasions and I’ve been the better person and turned the other “cheek” each time.

They say that success is the best form of revenge and my revenge has been sweet.