We met the kids grandmother the other day.
We were all called to a family group meeting to discuss the case plans for the kids as this month HOPEFULLY the court will make a decision for the kids for long term care and we can all start planning things like holidays, where the kids will go to school next year, christmas things etc.
By the way,
it’s only 157 days until Christmas. You’re welcome.
Anyway, the grandmother sat at the head of the meeting table and made it her job to continually interrupt, back chat, argue and intimidate everyone sitting around the table, INCLUDING her daughter, the boys mother.
She was there for “the kids”; and I found myself thinking half way through the meeting,
Why are you here lady?
In the 6 months that we’ve had The Kid and the 2 months we’ve have Little Man there has been NO contact from her at all.
Yet, there she was sitting at the table abusing one of the other carers like she had a vested interest in the children.
She GAVE them up to be fostered because they were too much for her to cope with.
That’s okay, sometimes, you just can’t.
But it’s NOT okay to decline any contact with your grandchildren and then act as if you are grandmother of the year.
The Mother was just as aggressive and petulant, yet sitting at the other end of the table she would try and get my eye contact and smile at me like we were friends, sharing secret eye rolls or something.
It was confusing and horrible made even worse by the fact that I have my very own hormonal rage coursing through my veins by the name of progesterone that causes irrational anger at stupid people.
Mainly, the two morons sitting at the end of the table.
At one point I was practically withering in my seat, sitting on my hands BEGGING our social worker to say something.
However, I don’t believe screaming obscenities at the parents would have helped anyone…but make me feel better for five minutes.
For the past few weeks Husband and I have been trading insults and passive agressivness…or that could just have been me and he’s been secretly packing his bags waiting for a safe time to escape the wrath of hormonal sass.
We’ve been arguing over a house that I wanted to move into, the argument of course being that Lex does NOT want to move into…despite the fact that it’s opposite the bay, has a pool and is lovely.
He’s letting one tiny small thing like it being right next to a fish and chip shop stop us from having the awesome house of awesome.
What a dickface.
So we made a deal (that he regretted) on a wednesday afternoon in between insults and my deadly death stares that if he did NOT find us a house by last Friday 4pm I’d call and accept the house of awesome.
Of COURSE anything that he said he wanted I immediately picked apart and declined and by 4pm last friday I was itching to pick up the phone and accept.
I am a woman and I reserve the right to change my mind as much as I like and decided that actually while the house WAS awesome and had a pool and was opposite the bay, it is nowhere near a school for either of the boys PLUS it is sort of on a main road and I’m sick of hearing cars all day every day and living next door to a fish and chip should probably would have it’s perks like instant dinner when I’m too lazy, but the downside would be i’d be too lazy ALL the time and we’d end up being too fat and sick from over eating fish and chips plus I’m almost 100% sure that battered fish and chips is NOT paleo.
So, now we are rushing to find somewhere for us to move to urgently because I cannot stand to live in this house for another month.
It’s rained for the last two days and last night as the kid was on the floor making some origami octopus for the girl that has his heart (I KNOW! IF I WAS HER I’D BE ALL, EWWWWWWWWW OCTOPUS! but he’s a romantic and I don’t want to hurt his feelings) and he was being dripped on by asbestos ridden gross water coming from the huge hole in our ceiling.
That there is 1000000% awesome.
And now we wait.
There is a house that I have decided I simply MUST have or I will die and we are now waiting for the phone call to say we have the house.
I made the real estate my new very best friend and hopefully she won’t let the friendship down and go for some other couple with no children or a Moo to destroy the house.
If this post isn’t obvious enough, I have turned into a cranky crazy angry person from trying to stop this awful period and while the progesterone is doing it’s job in making me into a crazy person, it’s not stopping the period.
I went to a stupid doctor yesterday who was stupid and asked me if “I wanted to make ze babies” I replied that YES. I DID want to make ZE BABIES BUT IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY FOR US THANKS, JUST GET ME A GODDAMNED HYSTERECTOMY SO I CAN RETURN TO A NORMAL PERSON.
Is it really THAT hard to read my medical file?
Clearly it is.