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Jen to Jon – October 17th, 10:14 a.m.

3. Along those lines, have you thought any more about the Montessori situation? It would eliminate the housing issue for everyone, and I legitimately feel it is worth exploring. This could be the biggest decision we make for Jack (and Lo, but less obviously so, at this point) and I don’t want it shot down because we’re not getting along.

4. That said, is there any way for us all to try and relieve this tension? Find a way to start working together? I have given up the idea that we could all be friends, and I respect that – hopefully it changes someday; the current fighting breaks my heart. But we can’t keep escalating the powertrips and fighting – we are simply, flat-out NOT doing what’s best for the kids, and are failing as parents in that regard. There doesn’t need to be this much tension, I swear, again, that I have no ill-will toward either of you, I’m just so tired of my parenting opinion not being respected just because sometimes it differs from yours. Would it even be feasible to ask that we all four go get a beer and just try to talk? Try to explain where we’re coming from on both sides? We have to work this out, Jon. We are on an insidious path toward being unable to function at all as parents, and what’s the final step? Fighting in court for full custody? Surely no one would ever think that would do anything other than traumatize the kids for life.


Jon to Jen  – October 19th, 9:26 p.m.

This is to notify you of an appointment with Dr. E******** on Thursday, October 28th, at 9:40 AM to discuss a potential vaccination schedule for Jacoby and Lorelei. This will give you and I a chance to ask any questions we have concerning how the vaccination schedule will be set up for each child in order to meet Johnson County Health Department School Immunization requirements. It is my intent to schedule the first round of vaccinations 45 days from the initial consultation with Dr. E*******.



I am emailing you to notify you that as of today, October 19th, 2010, I will no longer be paying half of the following expenses:

1. Monthly fee for preschool at *********** for Lorelei.
2. Monthly cost of daycare for Jacoby and Lorelei to **********.
3. Monthly cost of Y-Care at ********* for Jacoby.
4. Lunch fees for Jacoby at ***********.

This is due to the fact that I am already paying my share through my monthly child support payment to you. Through consultation with my attorney, I was made aware of the fact that I am already paying for these expenses through my monthly child support payment to you as defined by the state of Kansas, Johnson County.



I was very surprised to hear from you today. It’s been what…almost three years?

I gotta say I’m sorry you’re sorry to hear that I not only got a divorce but am now Living In Sin* with a guy (whose name is BRANDON, for future prayer record). I personally think both were good decisions for me, for myriad reasons, but I understand that you wouldn’t know all those reasons and would immediately be gravely concerned about me, because I’ve fallen so far from what Our Lord wants for me.

[*I’ve always been fascinated with this title. Aren’t we technically all living in sin by definition? Or is this one of those asterisked-code-red ones that gets more judgment than the usual sins, like homosexuality and pre-marital sex? They should put out a hierarchy handbook of this stuff, methinks.]

I’m also sincerely sorry that you are that worried about my soul. I actually think God is probably a helluva lot more understanding and wise than many people give him credit for, and would recognize that Jon and I were young, dumb kids when we got married at 22, and actually spent way more time thinking about our majors in college than we did knowing ourselves. Not to mention understanding such a tremendously weighty life decision. It’s too bad that you think I ruined the kids’ and Jon’s lives, and that you’ve lost respect for me. I’ve lost a lot of respect for people too, but I guess I don’t get a voice because I’m the one with the corrupted soul and evil, life ruining powers. Muahahahawhatever.

You’ll be relieved to know that I did, in fact, Think Of The Kids (and therapy – I even used it to facilitate the decision-making! I know, right? And she was a Christian, too!). I continue to Think Of The Kids in every decision I make. I’m moving back to Jack’s school district next month to ensure that after Jon sells the house, Jack is guaranteed to stay in the environment that has comforted and propelled him as far as he’s come. Rest assure that Thinking Of The Kids is something that is my top priority. This must be a common theme, though, my being a horrible mom, because the kids’ grandparents discussed in the beginning of the divorce the idea of taking me to court as an unfit mother. Damn Wellbutrin. It’s risky business during stressful times in your life.

I don’t know that everyone has the same goal in mind, though, that Thinking Of The Kids concept. Because despite having planned – and discussed with Jack – having one birthday party for next weekend, it’s since been decided that some people can’t be there if I’m there. (One guess who might have voiced that opinion.) Which is all well and fine for me personally, except for that minor detail of when Jack looks at me Saturday night and excitedly asks if I’m still coming to the party the rest of his world will be at the next day, his actual birthday. And I’ll say no to him. Though I don’t yet know what I’ll tell him the reason is. Because I’m too busy to make time? Because I don’t love him? The truth – that grandma and grandpa hate Mommy? I have no idea.

No really, I’m serious. I have 4 days before he asks me, and I truly don’t know what I’m going to say to him. But I have to take the bullet one way or the other, and making a kid think his mom doesn’t want to come to his birthday is not Thinking Of The Kids, as far as I’m concerned.

So what’s my point, old church acquaintance? It’s that your email was fucking ridiculous, all-around. It was hypocritical and ignorant and out of line ad infinitum. But unfortunately, it wasn’t new to me. You are in a growing line of people who not only feel entitled to my business, but in fact feel even more entitled to tell me what a rotten person I am, despite it being glaringly obvious that you don’t have all the info.

Thus, perhaps you could revive the game (and/or phone-tree) my old neighbors had, and add to the speculation of when I come and go, and what I am wearing. WEARING. BECAUSE APPARENTLY DIVORCE = PROSTITUTION. NO WONDER EVERYONE IS SO ANGRY AT ME. Or you can join my insurance guy who told me that he’d hold off on taking my name off Jon’s life insurance, because we all agreed that hopefully there can be a reconciliation (to which I blurted out we, who?). Or the countless people who fairly or not, decided they could no longer have a relationship with me, because of my choices. Of whom I respect that right, so long as you don’t leave anonymous passive/aggressive comments on my blog later on.

And then you can bite me.

Because what you won’t do is think that somehow you’re going to guilt me into following your template for morality. You’re not going to be the person who gets to punish me, and you’re not going to convince me that I shouldn’t be trying to admit and repair my mistakes, even if in doing so I have to put myself out there to be flayed as the fucking imperfect human that I am. I made a choice that despite being anathema to you, is one that I feel is actually best for myself and the kids, (and more than perhaps anyone, Jon) in the long run. I may be wrong, but I don’t believe I am, and in the end, it shouldn’t matter to you. Because regardless of the fact that virtually every single person who has said something stupidly cruel during this fishbowl-I-call-my-divorce was a professed ‘Christian’, what I won’t do is believe that God, whatever it/he/she may be, approves of your behavior – or more important the demographic you think you’re representing. Because what you’re saying to and about me is not kind-hearted or evangelical, it’s sanctimonious judgmental asshattery, and I’m so friggen OVER IT.

(Except I’m not, because I’m obviously pissed at the moment. But after this? OVER IT.)

So please take your ill-informed righteousness, and move on down the road. I am done justifying or explaining anything to anyone. I’m not the first person to get divorced, I’m not a bad mother, and most of all YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW ALL OF THE DETAILS I REALLY TRULY FOR REALZ PROMISE YOU.

But many thanks for reminding me why I left organized religion.



P.S. Before you can go there – I’m not defensive, I’m cynical. And pretty hurt. But I am not defensive.

P.P. S. I helped a baby come into the world yesterday. Doesn’t get more miraculous than that. Did you do that? Doubt it. 1 God Point = Jen

1. I rarely drink pop.

2. I carefully wrote out my performance review this weekend, as my handwriting has regressed in the however many years of using a computer.

3. I’m ridiculously klutzy.

4. I’m tired.

5. When I do bring in a drink, I always set it on the ground or carefully away from any important papers or expensive equipment.

6. I have, my entire life, been bad about tightening caps on things.



1 + 2 + 3 + 4 +5 + 6 = I just tripped, shaking up my barely-capped pop, and sprayed the shit out of everything.


Welcome, Monday. Now please go away because you suck.

That’s my wait time thus far with Time Warner Cable. Which I find interesting because you can’t just call them, you have to put your number in the website and ostensibly they call you when they’re ready to



Yes! Yes, in the ultimate of cosmic practical jokes, as I was literally typing the above sentence, I finally had a live person pick up, just in time to immediately tell me that their BILLING SYSTEM IS DOWN AND THEREFORE SHE CAN NOT HELP ME AT THIS TIME.


I was going to sit out here and type up an update about how I move in two days and I’m not done packing and I don’t have the logistics of the actual move hammered down and I don’t even know if I can drive the damned Uhaul because I don’t know if my insurance on my beloved Xterra has totally expired or just hasn’t been renewed because I can’t find the info because I’m half packed everywhere

..but now I’m just going to go drink a beer and laugh. Because some days that’s just what needs to be done.

More Friday, or next week: whichever comes first with my interwebs hookup. Literally.

Number of jobs Jen was told were frozen after resume had been submitted: 2

Number of (different) jobs Jen was told were frozen during interviews: 3

Number of (different) jobs Jen has worked: 3

Number of jobs Jen has now been laid off from: 3

Number of jobs Jen currently has…. all because of the goddamned economy: 0

I just tried to call my dentist to schedule a cleaning, and the gal cheerfully told me the next appointment is on SEPTEMBER FIRST. We got in to see the developmental pediatrician for Jack’s autism diagnosis faster than that. I saw a cardiologist in high school sooner than that.

I’ve never had to wait that long to get in. Is six and a half months out normal? For a friggin’ dentist? Blerg.

Medieval torture is illegal, unfortunately.

Chinese officials arrest two men suspected of adding a dangerous chemical to baby formula.

Hala posted an article about a little boy who was ‘voted off the island’ in his class, and the point of the story is that the five year-old is (soon-to-be) dxd with Aspergers.

[My first reaction was irritation that the reporter spelled Asperger with a ‘b’ in it. Damnit, people. It may sound like ‘burger’, but it’s not. If you can’t spell it properly and don’t know how to use, relearn how to pronounce it as a mnemonic.]

However, the gut reaction for me was not so much the advocacy of disability discrimination – which is real when it comes to disabilities that can create negative reactions, e.g., behavioral issues – but the stunningly STUPID fact that that teacher thought the game(?) would be a good idea for any child. I mean, come on, has she never heard of that brown/blue eyed experiment?

I can’t imagine any teacher pulling a young child to the front of a class and having all his classmates say what they DON’T like about him, and then vote to kick him out of class. Add to that that the child in question has a dx including social difficulties – and had made ONE FRIEND in the class – and she thought to herself that not only was that not cruel, but was in fact altruistic or …wait, my head’s exploding… didactic?

Sweet Mary I can’t even imagine what I would do if someone did that to Jack. As it is I want to shake that teacher until she gets whiplash. And the thing is, part of this is my old debate about special treatment of autism in regards to viewing it as a disability or a neurodiverse thing. I don’t always agree that everything should be kumbaya and unrealistic in learning environments. So maybe with different constraints (Older kids? Couched in a psych lesson?) it could be interesting. Maybe. But it just seems an unnecessary experiment (and, done before), and knowing the extra and long-term damage to this boy in particular is what takes this from stupid to outright malicious.

But the part that makes me saddest of all (again, like Hala) are the comments after the article. Disagree how you will about autism being a factor, but being unsympathetic to a child’s emotional damage is.. wrong. And that’s the base factor here.

So here’s a story:

Remember when I first told you about my sweet little birthday present? And then my interest began to wane, ’bout the time I realized he was sort of a fartknocker? And then finally I gave up hope altogether?


Yesterday, I took Oscar to the vet after a week ( of being obviously unwell. And yeah, yeah, I should have taken him earlier, but he was still jumping on counters and cuddling and drooling all over so I figured he couldn’t be too sick. Whatever.

And what I learned was that that stupid shit had a 36 inch piece of thread somehow attached to the bottom of his tongue (I mean, seriously. Seriously?) which was then, well, threaded (snort) all the way through his body to the very end. To fix it, the vet took X-rays, tried to yank it out, put him under, PERFORMED SURGERY IN MULTIPLE PLACES ALONG HIS STOMACH AND INTESTINAL TRACT and sewed him back up again. All in under two hours.

And all for the low, low price of a grand.


And I know a large number of you are screaming SUCKER! to your screens right now. I hear you. But the thing is, afterwards, when Jon and I talked about it, we agreed that in the end we had to do it for Jack, since he still asks for our cat who died last Spring. Oscar is really his cat, and we just didn’t think it would be fair to him – if we hadn’t chosen the surgery, he would have eventually died from starvation. That just seems cruel to me to be punished for something so.. stupid. Plus, in the end, I am too much of an animal lover. I just couldn’t let him die so arbitrarily.

(Though part of me still wonders if that was Darwinism in action, and trying to intervene was actually in fact messing with God’s design. Too late there, I guess.)

So the moral here? I have no idea. Don’t take in animals. Be a nudist so you have no need for thread in the house. Don’t have a son that looks at you with big brown eyes and asks when his cat’s coming home from the pet doctor.

Have an emergency stupidity fund.

You should know I’m finishing the cage and roll bar for my Xterra, and next time I will just ram you over.

And if you happen to be my father-in-law, so be it.


So then what, the high schoolers would have to give an impassioned speech at the town meeting to have a dance at the local mill?

Gimme a break.

Every day for four months the preschool parents have parked in front, because our kids get out 15 minutes before the rest of the school. And every day, as the parents begin to leave, you start your car and zoom around me, as though you might spontaneously combust if you had to wait the 30 seconds it takes me to put both kids in their seats so you can just move up in line when I leave. Why do you do this? Do you really think someone is going to randomly drive by and say to themselves If I don’t turn right now into this elementary school and park in the spot in front of that minivan I’ll SIMPLY DIE!

No, you don’t. Because no one’s going to die. Not even you. So knock it off. You look like an idiot.

In other news, this shoe has been on the side of the road for at least a week, and I was so stoked to see I finally had my camera in my purse. I’m pretty sure it belongs to Duckie Dale, dontcha think?


Good times, good times.


ETA: Because it’s on my mind, I bring you 80s goodness… now:

5:00 am – Lorelei wakes up. Since Jon is traveling I get up.

6:00 am – I discover we are out of coffee.

7:30 am – Jack wakes up and announces his underwear is stuck to his..

10:00 am – Kids color with markers. Mostly on themselves and the table.

12:25 pm – Lorelei pukes multiple day’s worth all over herself in the car.

12:50 pm – Get car seat apart to take off cover after twenty minutes.

12:51 pm – Lose one of the freaking screws inside the seat.

12:53 pm – Discover my washing machine has broken. RIGHT THEN.

12:54 pm – Wash the stuff in the tub and the drain clogs.

1:45 pm – Argue with the dentist’s office about discrepancies on bill.

3:00 pm – Repair guy says he won’t be out until tomorrow.

3:25 pm – Lorelei pukes again, in Jack’s carseat this time.

3:30 pm – Throw clothes and towel in tub to wash when I get a second.

3:34 pm – Shoo snacking kitten out of tub. Foul.

3:45 pm – Jack turns to talk while peeing and sprays everywhere.

3:46 pm – Jack helps by pointing to all the wet spots in the bathroom.

4:00 pm – Trip over snacking (again) cat, wrench back.

4:01 pm – Curse Jon for being out of town.

4:02 pm – Curse God for probably laughing.


4:08 pm – Debate escaping, but decide not to because car smells like ralph.

So I was reading the Yahoo front page just now and saw an article where a NY lawyer is suing her wedding florist for $400,000 for a botched job. Now assuming what she states is true, I too would be pissed. Things like this really can all-but ruin a wedding (if you forget the main caveat that marrying the person you supposedly love should outweigh any wedding mishaps). And I’d especially be furious if I demanded a refund of $4,000 and was ignored.

But to then turn around and ask for $400,000 in damages when the flowers themselves only cost merely $27,000 seems a bit disproportionate, no? I mean, I won’t get into the consumerism of such events where one can spend $27,000 on flowers, but c’mon. Four hundred thousand? That’s seems so unworthy as to be embarrassing.

Who knows, maybe I’m just jealous that I can’t even conceptualize having enough money that these numbers are normal to spend. But surely even to the megalorich that would be ostentatious, right?

What’s the point? I don’t think this person looks powerful. Just superficial.

Here’s the thing. Some people are very, very strong advocates for nursing in public. And I get it, because until it is normalized, it’s going to continue to be sexualized, and unfortunately that is a *huge* reason some women won’t breastfeed: simply because they can’t get past the sexuality of breasts. But other than advocating general education, I’ve never been extremely outgoing about nursing in public (NIP – get it? See, we have a sense of humor about it!). I did nurse in public, but it was just easier for me to nurse somewhere private, if nothing else because my kids would be too distracted otherwise.

And some women cover up for personal reasons, but most kiddos I know (my own included) HATE nursing under a blanket. It gets hot and stuffy and there’s nothing to see. I don’t think people get that when they just assume it’s no big deal to toss a blanket over a kid’s head. You try it.

And Jon and I watch Bill Maher every once in a while because of his guests, but overall I think he’s smug and arrogant. I like the discussions he has with people, and I don’t mind that he’s an avowed bachelor, but he’s too educated to be this childish and ignorant about breastfeeding. This guy is always trying to take umbrage with America for being so unhealthy and relying on Big Pharma.

H-e-l-l-o! What do you think is the point of nursing our future generation you idiot!

Anyway, this is the transcript of his take on the Applebee’s event. I agree with him that people have become lax on taking a stand on things, but devaluing something so irrefutably important is hypocritical and narrow-minded.

So Bill, I know you frequent the Playboy Mansion with your plastic girl-of-the-week, and think boobs are all for your pleasure. But if you’re comparing me to a dog because I can give birth and feed my child, what in the hell does that make you?

And finally, New Rule – and I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but: Don’t show me your tits. [laughter] Last week, the world’s first “Nurse In” was held to protest the case of a woman who was breast-feeding in public, and asked by an Appleby’s manager not to leave, but just to cover up a little bit. Because the wait staff got tired of hearing, “I’ll have what that kid’s having.” [laughter] [applause]

Look, I’m not trying to be insensitive here. I know your baby needs to eat, but so do I, and this is Appleby’s, so I’m already nauseous. [laughter]

Breast-feeding a baby is an intimate act, and I don’t want to watch strangers performing intimate acts. At least not for free. [laughter] It cheapens it. [laughter] But breast-feeding activists – yes, breast-feeding activists, called “lactivists” – say this is a human right and appropriate everywhere, because it’s natural. Well, so is masturbating, but I generally don’t do that at Appleby’s. [laughter] [applause] Not in the main dining area, anyway.

I mean, next thing, women will be wanting to give birth in the waterfall at the mall! [laughter] Look, there’s no principle at work here other than being too lazy to either plan ahead or cover up. It’s not fighting for a right. It’s fighting for the spotlight you surely will get when you go all “Janet Jackson” on everyone. [laughter] And get to drink in the “oohs” and “aahs” from the other customers because “You made a baby!” [laughter] Something a dog can do. [laughter] [applause] [cheers]

Only in America do women think they deserve a medal for having a kid. In China, women give birth on their lunch hour, and by the afternoon, they’re back on line, painting lead onto Barbie dolls. [laughter] [applause]

But this isn’t really about women taking their breasts out in public, as much as I’d like it to be. [laughter] It’s about how petty and parochial our causes have become, how activism has become narcissism. It’s why Al Gore can’t get people to focus on global warming unless there’s a rock concert. “Melting icebergs, brought to you by Smashing Pumpkins.”

It’s why there’ll be no end to this dumb war until there is a draft. Because, at the end of the day, Iraq is somebody else’s problem.

And, by the way, there is a place where breasts and food do go together. It’s called “Hooters.” [laughter] [applause]

Please consider having an informed guest to educate you better. Maybe your mom, since she’s a dog too, apparently.


ETA: P.S. You once dated Ann Coulter. Case closed.



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