HAPPY WHO CARES DAY ....

Well, I am not trying to be a bumstead by writing this blog, but I have somethings to get off my chest, so today is a good day to do it.

I actually will- or um, let me re state that --- WANT TO --- do another blog full of my weekend jabber, but this one is focused on one thing, so I don't want to get off track. I really just need to get this off my chest and blogging or writing for me is the best way for me to do so.

First, I certainly understand some of you have great Fathers - so happy Fathers day. ... but you are lucky ....I do NOT celebrate Fathers day --- and here are a few reasons why.

1) Well it all started a few years ago actually, A, the kids and I went home (Indiana) for Thanksgiving. We left early on purpose so we'd have a few extra days to spend with everyone, A's whole family was there, *most* of mine and so we wanted to see everyone. Naturally since there is so little time - we had to schedule things so we'd have time. We had 5 days all together. So we decided to spend the first few at my SIL's house and have time with all his family - 2 and a half days since he has more that actually come in to see us all. Then we decided to spend the last two of our trip with my family.

Our familes DO NOT speak ... at all - don't even mention the names .. so it can be hard, so we spent the first few days with his mom and then Thankgiving day - there were about 25 of his family there - so - totally OK with my family.  Then even though they all live about 20 minutes from eachother we were going to get a hotel room and spend the remainder of the days with my family ( I WILL NOT stay at my moms house, sorry - she smokes and don't clean, it is gross) so anyway - that is another story and I am rambling .... the day after Thanksgiving comes and everyone gets up early - some to do thier Christmas shopping and others to start heading home, we started to gather our belongings for the hotel and then A got a call. Someone had - had a heart attack at work - a friend of his - and he needed to come back there ASAP so that they had someone to fill the spot and A wanted to see his friend. WELLLL. I called my dad and told him that we couldn't make it - A HAD to go back and we had to cut our trip short.

My Dad was livid, he went into some frenzy about why I won't go into my moms house and stuff (sorry, but like I siad they smoke and don't clean - not to mention I have asthma, and they refuse to give a rats ass about it and blow smoke right on my face) so anyway - ya' know - what can I say ?! It just ain't happenin' - I am sorry, but I don't like ciggarrettes and I have asthma and I do not want my kids by it, so that is your choice ... regardless, we HAD to leave - A had to be back at work the next day to fill in the persons spot.  (Which BTW - this person did not make it. )

SOOOOOO - that was like 3 years ago now and we haven't spoke since... I talk to my mom all the time, and I have even told her why we don't go over, but that is my mom and you'd have to know her to understand her, We get along okay though.

Sooo since that time - the flooding of memories comes back into my head and I get more and more resentful of my "Father".

When I told them that I was molested by a FREAK neighbor of mine - how he didn't speak to me for the longest time after and NEVER EVER treated me the same again ?!?!?!?

How when I told him I was almost raped, I was a dirty hoar ......

*Now,  Picture it* 1980 something, my mother has had surgery (she's had surgery 22 times)  and she gets home to heal. My father takes a white glove and wipes the top of the fridge and says "Carolyn - I see you have cleaning to get done here" ..... or something like that. I know it was a nasty comment, because she cried.

Another thing he would not mow the yard, year was like 1985, my Mom had broke her leg and SHE WENT OUT AND MOWED THE F'ING yard because he wouldn't do it !!!! 

Or how about all the years he would come in the house with mud on his shoes... knowing how sick she was and get the floor all dirty stomp off the mud then tell her to clean it !!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRRR !!!!!!!!!!!!

Or when he got fired - then wouldn't get a job ????? To which they ended up getting divorced over and selling the house I grew up in  (another story) .... then my father lived in his CAR for something like 3 years - hobbing all over the place. GIVE ME AN F'ING BREAK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Dad had money - he was obsessed over it or something. He'd stick it away and he had all kinds of stocks and bonds, he made us go with out as I was growing up so he could "add" to his money fund.

So - dont get me wrong - for the longest time as I was growing up - if I wanted something, I got it, no questions asked. I was a spoiled brat -  - - - but the money was to shut me up. I swear. If I ever wanted to just spend time or do an activity (like band persay) that was not ok and it was not going to happen.

And after I made the fact known about my being molested by my neighbor, any and everything I wanted was a big no no.  My family might as well lived in some trailer park or homeless shelter, beacuse NOTHING was done to my house - it was SCUMMMMMMYYYY, no one mowed the yard, no one cleaned, no one did anything, if it broke - it just sat there. GROSSSS !!!!

All my parent s did behind closed doors was argue and whine about everything known to man. I do NOT blame my mother for any of this crap though - it is his fault - he WAS suppposed to be the man and provider for the family !!!!! and I don't say WAS nicely either !

I HATE FRIGGIN PROCRASTINATION !!!!

I bought - mind you - with my OWN money -1987 - a basketball hoop - the kind that goes on the house. IT SAT THERE 12 years, he would not ever put it up - he had Mr. Hendricks (Our next door neighbor) come over to offer to help him put it up and my dad said NO... I will do it myself.  It NEVER got done and I threw the hoop away when the house sold.

 

Oh crap ==== I could go on alll friggin day !!!

 

But you know what !!?? I am not going to - I have my life now and he is not in it and I am fine. Sure an occasion my slip by when I wish I had - had a better father. Maybe one who was conscious of his doings and would choose to fix mistakes when told about them instead of making matters worse. I would like to think I can be better than that ...... But oh welll - anyway - that is why I don't celebrate Fathers day.

 

I am going to write a better blog in a little bit, but I have things to do right now. Just wanted you all to know.

TAMMIE