Now, I know it isn't right to go around striking nerves with everybody. I fully believe in the saying of "hurt people hurt people." Anybody who goes around putting others down all the time, or, even worse, committing violent acts towards others, is simply a person who's been very hurt in their life. They've been hurt to the point that they don't see themselves as beautiful loving creatures, but instead heinous hurtful monsters. So, they play the part.
I'm not like that. Most of my bite comes from being poked until I react. Sometimes, though, the hot button gets pushed and my fuse shortens and I snap.
What are my hot buttons? Well... gay rights is one. If I hear somebody gay bashing (even jokingly) I tell them what's up. I once went toe to toe with a big ass redneck farmer at a bar in the middle of nowhere (well, besides corn fields). He was so shocked that somebody in that bar wouldn't agree with what he was saying, he really didn't know what to do. He really didn't have much of an argument because he wasn't prepared to need one. Here was this chick telling him guys like him were wrong and he should get his head out of his ass. I might have even said something about how he shouldn't have to worry about gay guys hitting on him... I'm a straight woman and I don't even find him attractive. But if he wants gay guys to hit on him (like I believe most loud mouth gay bashers secretly do) then he might think about wearing something besides overalls all the time. Needless to say, he didn't like me much. He still won't make eye contact with me if we happen to be at the same place at the same time.
Another hot button topic for me is deadbeat dads. I can't stand them. It hits close to home for me... too close to home. If you have kids in this world and you aren't there for them, then you should be shot. At least then you'd have a valid reason for not coming around.
I'm a big supporter of the single parent. I don't believe that parenting a child means you have to be with the other parent of that child. You don't have to get married because of a pregnancy and you certainly don't have to stay together for the child's sake. In today's world single parents are everywhere, and I say bravo to them for realizing the truth about their relationships and getting out of something that wasn't right for them.
And when I meet a single father who loves his kids more than he loves himself, and supports his kids both financially and emotionally, I applaud him. If he sees his kids several times a week, shares custody, and is an active father in the lives of the kids who don't live with him 24/7 then he deserves some positive reinforcement. Good for you, if this is you. The world needs your example so keep it up.
As for the single father who talks the talk but fails to walk the walk... you can kiss my fat ass.
Yes, this was my dad. He only came around when he had a woman who thought he should. Having an absent parent created a lot of conflicting emotions in me growing up. I think my biggest hang up, though, is the broken promise. When I think of how I felt as a kid when my dad broke a promise to me, I feel a little sick. I can remember coming home from school on a Friday all excited that the day my dad was going to come pick me up was finally here. I can remember waiting all week for it. Chances are my bags were all packed by Thursday, just in case he decided to come early and was there when I got home from school. I'd come home, and I'd plant myself on the back porch and start waiting.
If the neighborhood kids saw me and asked if I could play I'd say no. With a smile on my face I'd say, "My dad's coming." I'd wait until the sun went down. I'd wait until after all the kids went inside their houses. I'd even wait if it were cold or raining. My mom would come to the door and ask me if I wanted to come in and wait inside. I'd tell her no. I wanted to see him as soon as he got there. Eventually I'd come in, though. The night would end with me passing out on the couch to the late night news. He didn't show up. He didn't call.
Sometimes he called. I would get upset as he explained why he wouldn't be able to make it. Sometimes he called the night he was supposed to get us. Sometimes it was the next day. I can't recall any of the excuses he used. I only remember the disappointment. The times he didn't call at all... well... those were the times I questioned how much he really cared.
I remember the broken promises. To this day getting stood up still hits a nerve. But, honestly, nothing will ever match what I felt back then. I think, looking back on it, it was true heartbreak.
I'm not afraid to talk about it. I've resolved my issues and have moved past them as an adult. I'll never forget, but I refuse to hold onto it all like some sort of broken person. Plus.. I'd like to break the cycle.
There are two kids in my life who I love as if they were my own. They're not mine; they're not blood relation to me at all. Their mother is a close and dear friend of mine. I refer to them as my god children, because I would gladly take over should the most terrible thing happen to their parents. They call me Aunt Destiny and they both include me in their idea of family. I hang out with them several times a week and sometimes I treat them to special things (when I can afford to). I love them and they love me. I care about them and their well beings (both physical and emotional).
Their mother and father are divorced and they've arranged a shared custody agreement. For a while, it was working out well. He came and got them on his scheduled nights and weekends. He called often to talk to them. He paid the child support. He'd even drop by on the unscheduled times and hang out with them. He was a good single father.
Slowly, though, it started to change. He started to barter with my friend on which weekends he could have them. He started coming up with reasons why he couldn't take them. Sometimes it was because he had to work. Other times it was because something came up. But it started happening more and more often.
I started to see how it affected the children. Her son started becoming distant. Her daughter put on a brave front, but would tell me, "Daddy's not coming." And I would see the look on her face for a split second that reminded me so much of my own past.
Then, he stopped paying his child support. He'd have some failed logic as to why he shouldn't have to pay it. When his logic failed to hold up with anybody who would listen to it, then he came up with excuses. One after the other, and they all stank. His visits were growing further and further apart, as were his phone calls.
As of right now he hasn't paid child support in about 8 months. And this weekend is the first weekend this year that he has them. I have a big part to play in them finally seeing him.
I will admit he's had a rough year. He's been evicted and he doesn't have a job, and his car just broke down. He can't use his tax refund to fix his car because it's going straight to his kids (sucks not paying child support doesn't it?). So, I'll cut him a *little* bit of a break. But, really, there's nobody to blame for his lot in life but himself. So I don't feel too sorry for him.
For the past few weekends he's been promising to work something out to get the kids. And every time, at the last minute, he cancelled. Now my friend is smart, and she tries not to get the kids' hopes up. She mentions it in passing and uses the word "maybe" a lot. These promises he's making are to her... he's not saying them to the kids. So my friend bears the brunt of it. She gets the broken promises, and not the kids.
Well, this week I heard him on the phone with his daughter. He told her he'd see her this weekend and he was coming to get her and her brother. The rest of the day she was talking about how she was going to see her dad this weekend. She was even trying to figure out her sleeping arrangements and the kinds of things they'd do. I felt happy for her. She was excited.
Her brother, on the other hand, doesn't get excited anymore. When he's told to speak to his dad on the phone he says no until my friend begs him enough to do it. When he's told he's going to spend time with his dad he says he doesn't want to. He gets depressed and says he hates his life. He says he's a loser. He gets down on himself... and I think it's a direct reflection of how he feels about his father. He's starting to see the disappointment and he'd rather live without it. His sister is still holding onto the dream of being "daddy's little girl." I feel bad for both of them.
So, yesterday, when he called to cancel the weekend he'd promised his little girl... my hot button was pushed. My friend tried compromising. She offered several different options which would be easier to him. He turned them all down. Finally she asked me for my help. We figured out a plan which he'd have no choice to say no to. It was infallible against his excuses and his reasons. And I let him know. I let him know that he WOULD be seeing his kids this weekend, and his excuses weren't going to work this time. He told me to butt out.
Now, here's how I translate "butt out." It really means, "I'm scared of your involvement because that means I'm really messing this up. Please don't hurt me."
Well, I didn't butt out. I refused to. Those kids mean the world to me. I'm like another parent in their eyes. I pick up where he leaves off more times than I'd like to mention. And I was not going to see the disappointment in that little girl's eyes when she told me her daddy wasn't coming. No. Not this time. Not again. Not. Happening. They ARE spending the weekend with their father.
Because despite his general lack of respect and understanding of responsibility, he's their dad. And when he's with them he's a good dad. They deserve to have a relationship with him. I don't think he deserves them as much as they deserve him... but that's not my call. Just don't tell me to butt out when I care about something. Because I won't. And you won't like what you hear me say if you push the subject.
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