There's TWO of them?

Elephants. There are two around here right now. They both can't be white so let's say the first one was white, this one is pink, which also happens to be my favorite color. And you know what? They are getting on my damn nerves and honestly, there's not room left for one more.

Since the last update asshat wants to pretend that nothing ever happened. Thursday night I made plans to eat dinner with a friend on Friday evening. My mom was keeping Barbie, Jr. overnight and my friend said I needed a few hours away. And she was right.

I broke down and called asshat Friday after 3 to make sure he had gone to get Barbie Jr. from school. And he asked what "the plans" were for that evening. I said, "I'm going to dinner with my friend." And he said, "Oh, I thought maybe we could go to dinner." Part of me wanted to shout YES let's go. But the stubborn side simply said, "Sorry, I already made plans."

I came home and he acted as if nothing had ever happened. He had a period of about 2 1/2 hours to address the previous night. I came in and laid on the bed. He was laying on the bed. I went in with all intentions of talking, but he chooses to sleep. So I got up, got ready, got the girls stuff ready for nana's and she told him goodbye and he acted all sad and pitiful.

Of course then I got shit from my mom for going to dinner with my friend and "giving the husband such a hard time". So we have dinner and decide to go somewhere and have a beer. Asshat calls in the meantime and again tries to act all pitiful and sad. I call to check on Barbie, Jr. and my mom proceeds to bitch at me for being out. I better not be drinking, where am I, and I better not stay out too late. I hang up and call my sister for clarification that I am indeed 33 years old. She confirmed that I was. So I had 2 beers, talked to my pals, and left and went back to my friend's house.

This morning I called to see if he was coming to Jr's game and he acted all sad and said, "I just don't feel like it." After the game I went with my mom and sis to the "Huntington Homecoming" at the Riverfront Park. I was telling my sister about him being pitiful and my mom goes off on me. I'm being too hard on him, I'm nitpicking, I need to back off. We ended up going to dinner and while my mom was off talking to someone, my sister and I talked about mom's outburst. She told me my mom was worried because before when I was unhappy all I did was drink... a LOT. And that I was going "wild". My sister laughed at that suggestion and told my mom that I was out having dinner and a drink with my friend, which hardly qualifies as being "wild" and that I have grown up a lot since those days. I told my sis about how mom thought I should go to dinner with the asshat last night and we discussed how mom believes we should handle everything the way she would. Which is don't stand up for yourself and have no backbone. And I looked at my sister and said, "Would you want your daughter to put up with someone who treated her and had done her the way he has done me?" And her response was "hell no."

So when mom got back my sister slyly turned the conversation back to my marriage. And my mom informed me that she thought I was being unreasonable and should overlook his being late to pick up the girl. My sister disagreed and explained why, and talking about all the things he has done which could have been harmful. Things such as, leaving Barbie, jr. in the truck when she was 1 1/2 old so he could go buy beer. Sleeping constantly while she was in his care and the ungodly things she got into during those times. I chimed in and explained AGAIN that Jr's biggest fear at daycare was us not picking her up. And that many days, he came home from work and did what he wanted and I would end up picking her up after work. My mom still insisted I was being too hard on him, blah, blah. She and my sister end up getting in a small argument and my mom said, "Well, I don't think financially she can make it on her own."

I sat there quietly. Thinking. Thinking about one time in particular. One time I had kept to myself. The one thing I think of each and every single day since it happened. I don't think I even ever blogged about it. I felt so ashamed, so stupid, so naive.

It was maybe a month before I found out he was an addict. I had come home from work. I went to put some laundry in and look down and there were 3 white lines cut out on my washing machine. I went beserk. I knew what it was. What else could it be? 3 lines of cocaine, on my washer, and my child was wandering about the house. And that combined with knowing how poorly he watched her. It was awful. He claimed that his buddy punkinhead had been here earlier in the day and had gone down there to do a few lines and had gotten a phone call which must have distracted him. He went so far as to call him up and chew his ass. And his friend took the ass chewing.

I cleaned the washer with bleach. I was furious. His friend was no longer welcome in the house. And I was horrified to think of what could have happened had our daughter gotten into that. Even residue could have been harmful. And now, I just feel stupid.

I told them that story today, while sitting there in the middle of the restaurant crying my eyes out. Trying to validate to my mother, why this is all a big deal to me. She and my sister were both angry, not with me but with him.

Jr. and I get home and he isn't here. I didn't bother to even call and see where he was. It didn't really matter to me. And of course he comes in an hour or so ago, pretending everything is okay. And the most fucked up thing is, his pitiful bit DOES make me feel bad. And I haven't done anything that should make me feel bad. And I could easily go on and pretend everything is okay. I've done it a million times before. But that's not fair to me. That's letting him get away yet again with his shitty behavior.

So again, I'm going to have to be the bitch and point out that we have yet another elephant we need to discuss. It's not going to be fun but it has to happen.