Confession #9

Lough Out Loud. That has been my motto for the last several weeks to cope.
You know, your children don't realize that they're stabbing you in the heart and ripping it out with their bare hands. Especially teenage daughters. Or maybe they do.
A couple of weeks ago I took my daughters to a counseling appointment. Without going into why, I felt it best to take them in. Their father insisted he and his pet, I mean wife, "Warthog," be there.
So, forgive me but I am going to allow you to witness the truest sense of who I was in those two very long hours.
I came into the lobby to wait, Ex and Warthog took the girls to breakfast so they arrived with them, and the girls ran up to me, hugging me, and wanted me to sit with them. I walk past Ex and Warthog, not able to resist the inner grin at the realization that she has gained a noticeable amount of weight. She's maybe five feet tall, her feet were swinging, barely skimming the carpet, as she sat in her chair.
I take out my iPhone and snap a couple of shots of Ex and Warthog to send to my friend.

Text conversation with my friend while I waited:

"At appt in lobby. He brought girls before me and refused to sign document as guarantor. It's Medicaid coverage, he doesn't pay a thing and they refused to sign. He made over $110,000. last year, I was homeless for seven weeks and he can't sign? Schmucks!
LOL...He's wearing jacket I gave him when we were married. I bet Ratface doesn't know."
                                "Tell her LOL! 'Oh Ex, I see u r wearing the jacket I gave u'...lol."
"Yeah I'd love to. Don't think that's the best way to start appt. I am wearing bra he liked. She's gained weight. She's like 5 foot flat and looks pregnant."
                                "Court is coming soon and things will get corrected...And she will pack on the                                          pounds being married to him. lol"
Not holding my breath. No ones jumping in my corner to fight battles yet."
                                "You never know...think positive. And stay pleasant and professional."
"They don't even realize I took pic and she's looking right at me. Moron.
She doesn't even have a chin. Oops, I'm sorry. She has three...
This might actually be fun."
                                "She's getting fatter...and I can see why she married him...they match energy-                                         wise. Could be fun."
"I truly accidentally dropped something right in front of them and stooped down to pick it up...I realized moments later and felt like Elle Wood in 'Legally Blonde.' Remember when they practice dropping something in front of guy they like. I didn't 'snap' though. Ha ha."
                                "Sureeeeee you didn't"
"LOL...well I did realize when I was picking it up so to make sure I used my best form to remind her I have the legs of a gazelle and she has the legs of a turtle."
                                "Good thinking"
"I just found more motivation to do elliptical. She keeps staring at me and I am acting like they'e not even there."
                                "Good choice."
"She thinks she can hide her fat with her HUGE purse but nothings that big."
                                "LOL"
"I have never been so katty. But is it katty if it's the truth you speak? :-)"
                                "Nope. You're a truth teller!"
"She keeps calling my 8yr old over and now just forced her to lean against her lap. Playing with her hair like she's the mom. Oops I'm sorry. She doesn't have a lap. She has a ledge."
                                "Meannnnnnnn LOL Feel sorry for her! She has to live with Ex."
"No...I don't feel sorry for her. She's got what she wanted. And as hard as she wants my girls...they'll catch on. She's the slime that collects in turtles skin folds under their shells."
                                "I was joking"
"I know. But I'm not. Wink"
                                "You seem pretty angry at her LOL"
"Uhm...I'm not sure. Something though. Oh! They've called for us. I'll text you later."

The hour that followed was awful. Ex kept making sure to include Ratface in on the discussion with the therapist, insisting she was a part of their lives and knew things about them that was important. (They've barely known each other! They only have girls most weekends and have only been married five months!)
I did most of the answering of questions, the girls answered on occasion. The worst moment was when the therapist asked my older daughter who she confides in. She said her father and best friend. Okay, I can deal with that. She's a daddys girl. I already knew that. Then the therapist asks if there is anyone else. She answered, "Ratface."
The shock was like a loud, yet silent, boom. I froze, wanting to maintain my composure. I wink at the "baby" and smile at the child who just thwarted my existence. The pain lingers even now in the retelling.
Ratface and Ex score at my expense and my daughter is playing for their side, scoring the shot.
I'm numb. It's like I'm in surgery and the general anesthesia has worn off but the doctors don't know it and keep cutting away at me. I'm screaming inside, "Please stop! I'm alive! You're hurting me!"
The interview is over and the therapist takes us to a room where the girls can pick a treat. On the way out we're to walk up some stairs and Ratface insist I go ahead of her. I do so and lengthen my legs and sway my hips as elegantly and powerfully as I can, to let her know I'm not down.
As we enter the lobby Ratface asks to speak with the therapist alone. I'm outraged. How dare she! Who does she think she is!?
"What is Ratface talking to the therapist about?" I ask Ex. "I don't know." he lies.
When I married him I thought him to be the most honest person in the world. I now know that was an act on my behalf.
It's a Friday so I encourage Ratface and Ex to take the girls as the only thing left was to make an appointment. They take the girls for the weekend and I'm seething, bleeding, and racked with pain. My own flesh and blood has not only betrayed me but has injured me as well.
I've no idea what my daughter was thinking. I suspect it was a passive/aggressive move on her part. She does get angry with me and has since said she would prefer to live with her father. Something that will not happen.
After this event I had 30 minutes to get to my debuting radio show. How was I going to function? How was I going to put on a smile, stop shaking, and do something I had no experience in? Walking from my car to the studio I told myself that I would not allow Ex and Ratface take my education, my future, or this radio show away from me. They are no one to me. They are the cowards that kick the giant when she is down. And yes folks, I am a giant. I have, and will continue to, endure the arrows of their small-minded ways. I will rise above because that is who I am. I will overcome their pettiness and jealousy and rise from the debris they call a life and soar to heights they've only heard of in story books because, heaven knows, they don't possess the intellect to read anything beyond a childs level.
It's okay to be katty at times. God knows, you can't be perfect and hold it in. You'll explode. Find a friend/therapist you trust and let it out. Release the Cracken and move on.
It's not easy but you know what? You're worth it. And when your own flesh and blood betrays you, deliverng the fatal blow...remember she is yours. You are her model. Grace, and dignity never go out of style. Let her have her play thing called "Ratface and Ex," and know that when the time comes in her life when she needs more than what she wants, she will run to you. It is you she will seek out when her "toys" fail her. And they will, I promise.