So standing there in the kitchen, in this moment time stood still. In this moment our whole life together came to one point balancing precariously on the edge, and I was standing looking over it. I knew I had to make a decision, and I knew it would change my life forever...
I could decide to walk away, instinctively turn away from confrontation - but something was nagging at me. Something made me think of my Lil Pixie and what her life was to be. Her life was worth more. She was worth a life of joy. And my job was to ensure her safety.
I slowly turned around and walked down those few stairs to the wood stove and that smouldering ash bucket. That horrible burnt smell pierced my consciousness, and I turned to the Moron. The Lil Pixie was scooting around on the ground. With resolve, I grabbed the ash bucket and put it back outside on the snowy front step.
This made the Moron raise to his feet and start the fireworks show. He accused me of monopolizing the parenting, being self important, of always having things my way. He even said I was being careless as putting the ash bucket outside (in the snow) would cause the house to be set on fire.
And the height of his yelling, the Moron picked the Lil Pixie up, said, "we are over" and left the room.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The First Day of the Rest of My Life...
My morning of the first day of the rest of my life, went like this. This day I will remember forever, as it was the beginning of my road to freedom - though I didn't know it when I woke up that morning.
I suppose my conscious self had realized that it was the Lil Pixie's first birthday, and therefore the promise I had made to myself, and her, was up. Upon her being conceived, I had promised that I would give her father, the Moron, one year to show he was a good father. I figured I owed her that. That one chance to be the family she deserved, the one I always wanted. Turned out to be a pipe dream, but at least I had tried.
After the Moron had left with the Lil Pixie for brunch with the MIL (though I have my own special name for her), I proceeded to clean up the house and get some house work done. I thought I may as well take advantage of the deserted house, and could use something to take my mind off the strange feeling I had.
It was winter, so we had the wood stove on as it was our primary source of heat. This was located in our family room, which was quite open.
I was in the middle of dishes and laundry when the Moron came home in the late afternoon. He had put the Lil Pixie down in the living room (she was still crawling as she hadn't started to walk yet at this point), while he proceeded to empty the hot ashes into the metal bucket from the stove. I wouldn't have even known he had done so, except after he had finished with the ashes, he started to brush the dog, and put the shedded hair in the bucket of hot coals/ashes and it was displacing that horrible burnt hair smell into the entire house.
When I passed thru the living room (it is between the laundry room and the bedrooms) I very sweetly remarked that the smoldering ash bucket needed to be put outside with the Lil Pixie around, as things could happen so fast with a little one. Tragedies happen in the blink of an eye, and it was better to be safe than sorry, so I put the ash bucket outside on the front step (surrounded by snow).
I then continued on to the bedroom to continue folding the laundry. Coming back thru the living room, on my way back to the laundry room, I noticed the ash bucket was back on the ground, infront of the wood stove. I took a moment to stop and stare at the still smoking bucket, then at the Moron, then slowly made my way up the few stairs to the kitchen.
In this moment time stood still. In this moment our whole life together came to one point balancing precariously on the edge, and I was standing looking over it. I knew I had to make a decision, and I knew it would change my life forever...
I suppose my conscious self had realized that it was the Lil Pixie's first birthday, and therefore the promise I had made to myself, and her, was up. Upon her being conceived, I had promised that I would give her father, the Moron, one year to show he was a good father. I figured I owed her that. That one chance to be the family she deserved, the one I always wanted. Turned out to be a pipe dream, but at least I had tried.
After the Moron had left with the Lil Pixie for brunch with the MIL (though I have my own special name for her), I proceeded to clean up the house and get some house work done. I thought I may as well take advantage of the deserted house, and could use something to take my mind off the strange feeling I had.
It was winter, so we had the wood stove on as it was our primary source of heat. This was located in our family room, which was quite open.
I was in the middle of dishes and laundry when the Moron came home in the late afternoon. He had put the Lil Pixie down in the living room (she was still crawling as she hadn't started to walk yet at this point), while he proceeded to empty the hot ashes into the metal bucket from the stove. I wouldn't have even known he had done so, except after he had finished with the ashes, he started to brush the dog, and put the shedded hair in the bucket of hot coals/ashes and it was displacing that horrible burnt hair smell into the entire house.
When I passed thru the living room (it is between the laundry room and the bedrooms) I very sweetly remarked that the smoldering ash bucket needed to be put outside with the Lil Pixie around, as things could happen so fast with a little one. Tragedies happen in the blink of an eye, and it was better to be safe than sorry, so I put the ash bucket outside on the front step (surrounded by snow).
I then continued on to the bedroom to continue folding the laundry. Coming back thru the living room, on my way back to the laundry room, I noticed the ash bucket was back on the ground, infront of the wood stove. I took a moment to stop and stare at the still smoking bucket, then at the Moron, then slowly made my way up the few stairs to the kitchen.
In this moment time stood still. In this moment our whole life together came to one point balancing precariously on the edge, and I was standing looking over it. I knew I had to make a decision, and I knew it would change my life forever...
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The Beginning of the First Day of the Rest of My Life...
It was the Lil Pixie's first birthday - a milestone in more than one way. A year of her life, a year of surviving a tumultuous family wherein she became a pawn, and the fulfilment of my promise.
Unfortunately, the Moron did not become the father I hope he would be. No miraculous transitions into fatherhood occurred. His value or understanding of love did not happen, and in my heart, my road was forged.
It began a very strange morning, being awoken by a phone call by the Moron's mother (the apple sure didn't fall far from the tree in this instance). He got out of bed and took the phone call in the living room. I later learned he also got the Lil Pixie up and was preparing them to go to brunch with his Mother.
I had already gotten up with the Lil Pixie earlier, so was trying to get some more sleep - but there was something strange about the phone call. When I got up, I found the Moron trying to escape (again) with the baby, without telling me where he was going.
I felt different, braver, stronger, and dared asked him where he was going. When he replied that he had been invited out to brunch with his mom, I asked why I wasn't invited. Usually I am in the most avoidance of such confrontation, but something just didn't seem right, and with my new found boldness, I attempted answers.
It was winter, so it was just starting to get light out. I made sure the Lil Pixie was dressed appropriately, as the the Moron seemed oblivious to such things. Once again I asked why I wasn't invited, where he was going, etc. The Moron just utilized his trusty veil of non-acknowledgement (one drawn from his more immature arsenal of control tools) and was out the door.
I knew something was up... I just didn't know what...
Unfortunately, the Moron did not become the father I hope he would be. No miraculous transitions into fatherhood occurred. His value or understanding of love did not happen, and in my heart, my road was forged.
It began a very strange morning, being awoken by a phone call by the Moron's mother (the apple sure didn't fall far from the tree in this instance). He got out of bed and took the phone call in the living room. I later learned he also got the Lil Pixie up and was preparing them to go to brunch with his Mother.
I had already gotten up with the Lil Pixie earlier, so was trying to get some more sleep - but there was something strange about the phone call. When I got up, I found the Moron trying to escape (again) with the baby, without telling me where he was going.
I felt different, braver, stronger, and dared asked him where he was going. When he replied that he had been invited out to brunch with his mom, I asked why I wasn't invited. Usually I am in the most avoidance of such confrontation, but something just didn't seem right, and with my new found boldness, I attempted answers.
It was winter, so it was just starting to get light out. I made sure the Lil Pixie was dressed appropriately, as the the Moron seemed oblivious to such things. Once again I asked why I wasn't invited, where he was going, etc. The Moron just utilized his trusty veil of non-acknowledgement (one drawn from his more immature arsenal of control tools) and was out the door.
I knew something was up... I just didn't know what...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)