When did I become the woman my husband (for the record, number 1) never wanted?
It's a question I know the answer to and most often I don't even think about it anymore. His mother will tell me the same thing as do my friends. Was it because he felt I was more successful than he was in law enforcement? I don't know. That's what his friends and some of his family say. Not that he wasn't outstanding, because he was an exemplary peace officer until he destroyed his career.
He didn't like the fact we were equals and he took it as a competition. I did not.
Running through a career like an overachiever and a bulldozer is just who I am. Ramrodder. Nobody likes those kind, except a prosecutor when you bring them good cases and put away the bad guy.
I think it was too much. I was also gone too much which had a factor on the marriage and being a good mother. He did not treat me right even before those days when I was just a mousy college graduate without a pot to piss in. This is all in the books and has been on the blog many times, so if you are a regular reader, this comes at no surprise.
It's been 6 years since I kicked him out. October 10. Magic date when I broke and could not take the bullshit. Although he told me on September 13, my birthday, he was done...he thought he was going to live in the house until the papers were final. Nope.
So who gives a shit? Not me. It's just a reflection on the past.
I am now Gladys Nightstone (street cred name) or Gertrude Applebottom ( the name my child thinks I should go by)---a different person. She asked me how I could have told people I was Gladys when my name plate clearly had my real name. I told sometimes people would not even realize it and others would point it out.
BUG: What would you say when they saw your real name?
ME: I told them cops were the same as convenience store clerks or fast food helpers and used fake names because bad guys were always trying to threaten our family.
BUG: Mom, that is dumb.
ME: Bad guys are dumber. Besides, you have to have some fun in the world.
That was a long conversation today. Shortly thereafter she bolted to her room.
It's a crutch.
How do you take away a teenager's room?
I can't banish her to that place anymore. She likes it.
Do you think teenagers are smart enough for reverse psychology?
Perhaps I sent her there too much in the old days and now she is going to show me.
"Ryn & Son" is no longer a symbol of a family bond, it is a mother movement.
The problem is making up for lost time with the Bug. Many times I feel I am losing ground and the kid classifies me as the MOMster. We certainly aren't the Robertsons.
All I can do is keep plugging on.
One day, I will get her to like to be in the same room as I am for more than 13.58 minutes.