My Daughter, the Benevolent

My daughter is a smart girl and I’m a proud mother.

She earns straight A’s in school, engineers her alarm clock system so that by 5am, she is ready to get out of bed, and she has taught herself to play her favorite songs on the piano – by sound. She’s also such a great kid – she’s kind and caring and fair to all her friends.

So caring, in fact, that one day, she missed her own bus to make sure a few of her friends got on their bus. No, really. Let me tell you:

There I was, in the midst of a pile of work at the office. It was a freezing, rainy day and I was dreading the walk from the building to the car when my workday ended. It was so cold it felt as if the icy air could freeze my soul. Literally.

Anyway, my phone rings, messing up my zone. It’s my daughter.

“Mommy, can you pick up me, A, M & M? The bus broke down.”

I panic because it’s freezing and my 16 year old baby girl has to wait outside because the bus is broken. I could picture her waiting outside, cold, miserable and shivering, frostbite on her fingers and toes.

“Ok, I’m leaving now, be there as fast as I can.”

I’m racing to the school at the speed limit so I don’t get a ticket. The thought of my kid turning to ice because she refuses to wear a winter jacket is almost bringing me to tears. My sense of urgency makes sure I catch all the red lights, because that’s how Murphy’s Law works.

But I finally make it to the school and pull up to the front doors.

My daughter is the only one power-walking to the car.

I’m confused. Where are her friends?

And I kid you not, the following conversation did take place. Verbatim.

“Where are your friends?” ~ Me

“Oh, their bus became un-broke so they went home,” ~ Her

Blink blink.

“So, why didn’t you get on the bus, too?” ~ Me

“You know they don’t ride the same bus as me, Mommy,” ~ Her

“So your bus was still broke?”~ Me

“No, mommy, I said THEIR bus was broke,”~ Her

“Well what was wrong with your bus?” ~ Me

“Nothing,” ~ Her

Jaw drops.

“So, you missed your bus … why?” ~ Me

“Because they weren’t going to have a ride home and it was freezing out, And you were already coming,” ~ Her

Sweet, huh? My kid cares about her friends so much she would freeze her butt to make sure they got home, even if it meant missing her own bus. Except they didn’t have to wait in the cold anymore, they were able to make it home.  

Then a thought occurred to me.

“Do they have parents?” ~ Me

“Yes,” ~ Her

“Do they have phones,” ~ Me

“Yes,” ~Her

“Then why couldn’t they call their parents?” ~ Me

“Because their parents have to work, mommy,” ~ Her

There is no emoji that would accurately describe the look on my face or the emotions I was feeling – I must have gone through about five or six.

“So … what do you think I do all day … at MY JOB?” ~ Me, staring incredulously at my daughter’s assumption that perhaps I didn’t work at all – I just go somewhere for eight plus hours a day and money mysteriously appears in my bank account.

And her resulting expression once it dawned on her that I did, in fact, have a real job – just like her friends’ parents – was a mixture of shock and apology. A bulb of realization went off in her head: her mom also had a job and that she probably did not need to leave early to almost take care of her friends whose bus un-broke after she missed her own bus home.

God Bless America … this kid …

I took her back to work with me so I could make up the time, even though I could have worked through lunch the following day.  And I made sure it was an excruciatingly long time before we went home; because not only did I leave work, I had to miss a 6 p.m. Crossfit class, which meant I didn’t get to burn any calories so I did NOT get to have any salted caramel ice cream.

Although I was slightly annoyed, the entire situation was almost comical. To this day whenever I bring it up, she insists she said “their” bus broke and I didn’t ask enough questions over the phone. My reply to that?

“Well, I was only thinking about my baby girl freezing, with her friends, so by the time I asked questions you would be a Popsicle and still miss the bus. I wanted to hurry and get to you as fast as I could to get you somewhere warm. That’s how much I love you.”

Dramatic? Probably. Truth? Most def.

Gah! I love my kid!

Confession: I'll miss you NEVER

"... I still miss you more then words can express ... I am serious about moving to be with you ... I just wish I did all these things sooner and maybe I wouldn't have lost you. I will always love you and miss you ... " ~ the ex

After a few weeks of not even remembering I have a LinkedIn account, I logged into it because I had notifications saying updates were waiting for me. It was several notifications.

It was for one message. Several times. And it was from my ex.

Sometimes, the almost four years I spent with him still affects me in a way only the other girls he cheated on me with would understand.

I don’t have any love, or like, left for the ex. When I left him and moved back home, it was a huge relief … that didn’t last long. Within a month, the texts and emails started, professing his true love, regret at having let me go and that he misses and can’t get over me.

Boo. F******. Hoo.

 I think if he could have figured out how to attach images to a Linkedin message, he would have included a pic of his junk since he thinks it’s made of dickmatizing magic. 

It isn’t.

Plus – not a fan of baby carrots – which is what all selfies of a man’s junk tend to look like because no one understands why angle and composition are important.

I digress. 

Not that I would feel bad for him if any of what he said was true. Actually, if it were true, I’d probably be doing some well-deserved gloating. As a matter of fact, I’d be gloating so much, it would overflow right onto all my social networking feeds. You know all those annoyingly vague status updates we all hate, make fun of, but find ways to use anyway? The ones about getting dumped by a douche who is now pining for what he lost? Those.

And I wouldn’t be vague.

Like, seriously, my Twitter would be a quoted play by play of his life sucking balls while I’m living la vida loca. I’d post pics of me with a suitable upgrade so even if he thinks he’s the hottest dude in his hometown (if he is, that’s pretty sad), he’ll def know he’s not the hottest guy I’ll ever be with. Instagram will be saturated with selfies of happiness stitched together with popular Internet break-up sayings. I’d even tag his two exes and his BFF in all that business.

So … that’s not really my style, but I would def be doing wine and gloating night with my BFFs.

But he won’t even let me have that because he’s a selfish prick. He was feeding me a bunch of bulls*** trying to get a reaction that would massage his ego. And to be fair, the first time he came at me, I listened to what he had to say before finding out he was playing me and a few other chicks … at the same time. I called him out (pretty funny story), but that didn’t stop him. It became a cycle:

Him: Message

Me: Reply to STOP/Ignore

Him: Disappear for a few weeks

Cycle: Repeat

He is like an antibiotic-resistant STD that keeps flaring up – can I say that? I feel like it applies.

I know replying is inviting, but ignoring was not working and the only other option is to delete the only place I can’t block him from, which is a great professional networking tool. That’s unfair.

He’s not so bright though, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I would get an opportunity to drive my point home.

And I got it.

He must have forgotten his sister is on my Facebook. While he has been busy telling me how much he still loves me and that he’s a changed man and wants to be a better person, I’m watching him pretend to be that better person to someone else through the photos posted from the holidays on his sister’s page – and his new vict- I mean girlfriend’s Twitter and Instagram - which I found through shameless Google research.

(Look, don’t act like y’all have not Google-stalked a liar or an ex or his/her new squeeze to get to the truth or find out if they upgraded or downgraded. We ALL do it, I’m just admitting to it.)

Flowers? Jewelry? The ‘L’ word? Mention of marriage? All in less than six months? 

Dude stepped up his game.

How could I not see that as anything but a slap in the face? Granted, I found that s*** on my own, but I was (and still am) tired of him contacting me once every few weeks like I’m going to forget that I don’t wanna talk to him.

So, I did what any other drama queen would do: I called him out. Then I offered, ever so sweetly, to forward all his emails and text messages to his new girlfriend – which, incidentally, seems to overlap the time period of his current relationship. Maybe I’m a little curious to know how his new girlfriend would take it if she knew he was still offering to move out here while they were planning Christmas together – or that he was trying to contact me at all.

I haven’t heard from him since because he knows I’m good for it. I don’t make threats, just promises. And if I had to be honest, I really, really want him to test me on this … if for no other reason than so I can blog about how it goes down. However, I’m thinking he’s not going to be dumb enough to f*** up a good thing twice …

Point is I was ready to let it go when I left him because according to the way he treated me during our relationship, I felt he was ready, too. If he had felt any of those things in his messages, he would have been a better person and kept all his promises to me instead of waiting for me to leave before telling me he’s ready to finally do it.

(But I'm glad he didn't, because I decided size matters ... size of the heart and his is very small and fake.)

I know he didn’t think we were getting back together. Pretty sure I made that fact known when I said, “We are never ever getting back together.” (Then I hashtagged Taylor Swift to his face because sometimes it’s like that.)

Or did he think we were going to be friends after everything? Because I am sure I was 

pretty clear that also wasn’t happening when I said, “we aren’t going to be friends. Ever.” 

So what is he getting out of creeping me?

Actually, I really don’t give two sh**s why, I just want him to stop. He’s taking all the joy out of this break-up and making it super hard to enjoy the perks of being the dumper instead of the dumpee. Like gloating and getting to bask in the glow of his misery because he’s NOT really miserable.

Neither am I, though.

Despite not getting to gloat, I’ve been fantabulous.

If I had to be completely honest, the only time I actually think about him is when he reminds me that he’s still there. Otherwise, he doesn’t exist for me anymore. Maybe the end result is for him to be immortalized in my blog – and maybe I’m just looking for a reason and opportunity to tell that story.

Not even as a cautionary tale, but just for entertainment.

 Because after almost four years of dealing with his addiction to hermaphrodite porn, 47” butts, cheating with other girls, his sense of entitlement and superiority stemming from his glory days of pop warner athletics and the ability to ace the Army PT test, and probably being the least intellectually interesting personality on the planet – well, let’s just say I earned that story. At least he was cute ... 

As well as the story of how all that had to happen so the good things happening now could be possible. Because sometimes you can't appreciate the good stuff until you've been through the worst stuff.