If I have told you more than twice how to make coffee that everyone can drink, and you continue to fuck it up and make it completely undrinkable, you have no right to get pissed off when I step in and do the job right.
If I have offered you work, help, and healing, and you continue to act exactly as you have before, then you are not going to improve your life, and you have no right to expect anyone to do anything to help you clean up your mess ever again.
If I have opened my home, gotten you email and internet, provided a phone while yours is off, purchased good food, backed off so you could spend time with your kid, and made an extra effort to meet your “creature comfort” needs, you have no right to wave your dick around and tell me how wrong my lifestyle is as a “peace-loving hippy”.
This is not about your son. This is not about our old relationship. This isn’t even about the house. It’s about you deciding to not be a self-destructive jackass, liable to take the kids down with you.
When I say I can’t let you see the kids if you’re drinking, that does not make me a bitch. That makes me a responsible parent.
When I ask you to please stop using racially and gender-based derogatory words around the kids, I’m not limiting your freedom of expression. I’m being a responsible parent.
When I deliberately do not buy red wine at the store for the third day in a row – regardless of your stated desire to make barbecue sauce with it – because you are supposed to be getting really and seriously sober, that does not mean I’m a f***ing c*** that “won’t do what she says she’s going to do”. That means I’m a responsible parent.
You’ve never really been one of those. Whenever you had primary care, it was someone else’s job ultimately to take care of them. I get that. But there’s no way on this earth or any other that your eat-shit-and-die attitude is going to convince me that I am a bad mother since I don’t let my kids watch age-inappropriate material or insist that they hang around hateful people. I am not “limiting their freedom” or “interfering with their self-expression”. I’m teaching them how to not be stupid.
I gave you a chance to get your shit straight. I won’t say you necessarily failed, but you’re really damn close. This was your last shot, and now it’s used up, so when you get back to Texas this week, I really hope you got something from it.
Because you are really not getting anything from me, ever again. Period.
(NOTE: Yeah, I know he won’t see this because it’s at the scary intertubes and he just doesn’t get it, but I really needed to vent.)