I Long To Be A Wiener

The police showed up at my door twice this past week.  Once on Monday and again on Friday.  Here’s why.  Over a month ago, I changed my children’s cell phone numbers.  I did this because my ex-husband and his partner had been cyber bullying my children over a period of several months.  They sent them texts like:



Three quick examples out of many, many others.  The children are 13 and 11 years old.

And so, when their dad figured out over a month later that the girls’ numbers were no longer in service, he called the police.  Twice.  In one week.  To check on the “safety and well-being” of his kids.  Of note are the following facts:

a) we have been living in the same house for 10 years and he lives 1.5 hours away;

b) he has my phone number and always has;

c) he has chosen not to even lay eyes on his children for over 1 year and has spoken to them over the phone exactly once in that time;

d) they somehow think that cyber bullying is okay;

e) he has a “no contact” caution filed against me which states that I am not to contact him “even if the children were dead.”

Any of you who have kids and an unhappy (read narcissistic and mean-spirited) ex know the difficult path of parenting through it.  Throw in a zany girlfriend who was born with entitlement issues and a trap that she can’t keep shut – the one on her face in this case – and there you have, well, hell on earth.  My special little piece of it anyway.


The difficulty for me is holding up this faux front, where I pretend that I’m not enraged and ready to tear someone’s head off.  The trick is to remain the sane one even when ex and his girlfriend’s antics push sanity to the edge.  I must first remember to breath and then measure any response.  Suppress the mama bear within.  For example, when I really want to say something like: “Fuck off you total fucking assholes” I actually say something like: “Targeting the children is completely unacceptable, as is directly involving them in parental matters.”  Yep, I puked up in my mouth a little bit too.

The dance is getting tiring.  It’s getting harder and harder to sit with the real reactions that remain unspoken within me.  For the sake of my kids and who am I kidding, for the sake of the court, I have to play it cool.  I don’t feel cool.  I feel we’re all being abused, bullied and harassed.  I feel sick for my kids.  I feel disappointed in my ex and perplexed by his actions.  I feel loathing for the vicious woman who wants to damage my children.

Where I feel envy is for my wiener dog who, without a second thought would unleash the feelings I cannot, and bite the shit out of either of those assholes if they ever came near his girls.

Oh, to be a wiener!


19 thoughts on “I Long To Be A Wiener

  1. The twins’ mother used to be like that. Putting them in the middle of our fights. She eventually got over it for one reason or another, but it’s chicken shit thing to do.

    • Thanks, Bill. I’m hanging. It’s been 10 years of it. When he puts this crap in their faces, it’s hard to keep them protected from the crap that goes on and the kids know it irritates the crap out of me. Still, I behave as best I can, but it’s exhausting.

  2. He had to send them twice? The point of that being what? These types are destructive. Texting is no substitute for calling. Texting rude and malicious messages isn’t the way to foster a loving and mutually respectful relationship. Going a month without noticing is pretty clear evidence he’s too busy being a boyfriend to be a parent. I’m preaching to the choir, I know. He doesn’t have time to call and talk with them, yet he had time to send the cops twice? The cops. He couldn’t call the school and check their attendance? Yes, that would have been upsetting, but less, well, asshole than sending the cops.

    • Hey Melanie,
      Yep a month. Glad you picked up on that. Cops have come twice and I’m sure I haven’t seen anything yet. I fully expect them to come once or twice a week indefinitely. See, he isn’t going to be given the phone numbers, he’s too much of a coward to face me or the kids (or the truth that the kids aren’t interested in giving him their new #’s) and he’s mean enough to keep doing the irrational. He also tends to act like a child. This is more of him stomping his feet because he can’t get what he wants. It’s going to be a long Spring….

      • There are many things I picked up on, but I live with the effects of a monster too. My comment would run on too long if I were to say something about all of this.
        Hopefully the cops will tire of playing his game.

    • Hey, Green. I always second guess blogging this stuff because I don’t want this space to be about the nasty in my life. But you know, sometimes it’s a good thing to do once in a while just to get it out of my system. I’ll hang in. I’m a pro. Lots of off-line dialogue with people I trust. It all helps. Thanks.

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