That Damn Ex of Mine

Xander still loves his Daddy. It doesn't matter that the man is in prison serving time for rape, that son of mine still loves his Daddy. He's always sending him his schoolwork, pictures of his games and will literally shut the entire house down if his sorry Daddy calls and we don't get to the phone in time. Sorry ex of courses uses this relationship to not only have his ego stroked by his son but to also get to me. It just drains me. I cannot tell you the feeling inside I get every time this man calls me and has the nerve to tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing with my son. Just the other day he called and got Xander. My son proceeds to tell him that he failed his math test and of course instead of disciplining his son (who was playing on that damn game instead of studying) he has Xander bring me the phone and he calls himself chewing me out because obviously I'm too busy to raise his son.

It took everything in my body not to respond with, "how about I bring him to where you are and you raise him." Of course I kept my mouth shut because Xander was standing there watching, making sure that we didn't argue. So all I was able to give my sorry ex was some "uh huh" and "yes I hear you." I swear I just wanted to scream. This fool left me here with this child to raise alone and then wants to rant and rave every time something is not going the way he thinks it should. It's enough to make me go ballistic. As a mother it's hard trying to maintain the balance of life and often I find myself questioning everything I do. Did I cheer loud enough at the game? Did I put him in all the right activities? Should I feel bad because I missed that event?

It's an ongoing question and answer session inside myself. So, when the sorry ex calls or writes with some bull shit it just pushes me mentally over the age. I feel discouraged at times and though I know his words are meaningless I must admit they have a way of reaching me. His constant complaints of my schedule or how I raise his son just make me want to lock myself in a room sometimes. It's just hard and I just don't know where to go often times after the mental abuse. I sometimes feel as if I'm so fucked up. It's scary being an army of one sometimes.