- Stand less than 2 feet away from me
- Whisper in such a way you can’t be understood
- Keep doing that multiple times as I ask you to speak up
I had to ask three times for him to speak up just to hear him and understand what the fuck he said. All this over stocking stuffers. He bought them. I did not buy any and only realized it now when all the stores are closed. He felt the need to ask me for permission to bring them. Which of course set me off.
Why ask? Just fucking bring them with the presents you got and already bragged about. Oh? You wanted to be considerate? What? Why do you need to ask me if you can bring presents for children on fucking Christmas? Seriously. It’s Christmas. It’s what you do. It’s expected. Do whatever the fuck you want. You do anyway.
But from now on you are leaving at 7pm like you are supposed to like it has been the last 3 leaves you have been on and don’t try to tell me you didn’t know this. Why else are you allowed to call every fucking night but never after 7pm? It takes 2 hours for Little Bear’s meds to kick in just so he goes to sleep assuming there isn’t anything to wind him up at night. Last night he was awake until midnight. Tonight it’s almost 10pm and he’s still awake.
I swear heads will roll if this child ends up destabilized and back in intensive care. You cannot mess with the routines with children like this and expect shit to go well. But he doesn’t care because he isn’t the one that has to deal with it. He gets to be the “Disney Land parent” in all this and make everyone else look like the bad guy.
I don’t think the older two boys are buying into it this year. Tuxedo Cat was looking forward to seeing him but I don’t know what happened on their day out yesterday but both him and Scholar Owl have been somewhat in a foul mood since coming back. Even Little Bear hasn’t been himself. And as usual, none of them want to tell me anything.
Really getting tired of this “Don’t tell your mother” attitude shit. But there is nothing I can do about it without making it worse.
He called this afternoon saying his sister told him to ask if they could come over for Christmas. He complained he didn’t understand why she insisted on that. Gee, maybe it’s because they weren’t invited? It was assumed that my husband would be here because of the boys. Every year they just show up because I refuse to drive the boys all over the place.
These boys each have a different father and for a while I did try to get them over to everyone’s house. But you know, you always miss someone and that someone always gets offended. And the boys just can’t handle it. I can’t handle it. So finally I said fuck it. This is where we are going to be. Want to see us? Make arrangements and come see us. End of discussion. His father bitched at me the first year and I told him I’m not driving 3 fucking hours just to see him when I have NO LEGAL OBLIGATION TO DO SO when there are two other fathers that I do have a legal obligation to be available for. One doesn’t bother. Not my problem. I still have to be available.
The other one comes every week to visit Tuxedo Cat. Like. Clockwork. This is why I can’t move. Too fucking bad if you don’t like it. You knew this when we started dating. You knew this when we got married. You knew this when you joined the Army. This isn’t changing. Ever. I will not apologize for this. If you think this means I don’t love you then so be it. I guess it does.
I guess it also goes to show you weren’t willing to understand what it means to be Autistic and how important it is to remain in a stable environment with people you know and trust. I’m not the only person in that category for him and I’m not willing to rip all those other people away from him. I grew up in the military and I know what all that moving around does to a child. I’m not doing that to my children. I’ve lost count on the number of times we have had this conversation – before and after you joined the Army.
Fuck this. Please let tomorrow go better than today.