Backtrack a bit: SWSNBN (cleveh eh?...ok not really) is Ex's girlfriend, obviously. They started dating ONE month after I moved out (post for another day perhaps). She moved into the house about six months later. My kids spend 2 weeks a month with their father. She's there. She is a
Y'all are going to think I'm crazier than bat shit when I say this but I swear on my brand new pair of Nine West shoes, I tell the truth -- SWSNBN believes to her very core, that she has as much say in the raising of my children as their father and I. I would go as far as to say she believes that she has more say in their lives then their mother. Ok, pick your chin off the floor, there ya go. I have emails to prove it.
It is without a doubt the largest thing I struggle with in regard to Ex and I sharing our children. I smile in her presence, I am completely civil to her (most of the time), I do not bad mouth her in front of my children. It feels so incredibly good to write here how much she fucking drives me completely around the bend. Because I don't do it IRL. I take the high road for the sake of my children. I ACT completely mature and rational when speaking about her with my children. Because they like her. And oh it breaks my heart that they like her. I want them to hate her, I want them to stomp their feet and insist that their father dump her fat ass. Oh how I would dance with glee. It's not going to happen. Because they like her....
It's a double edged sword, right? I mean, how awful would it be for my little darlings if they did not like the woman in my Ex's life? It would be pretty awful because I'm not sure if Ex would have the brains to realize it and choose his children over his relationship. So it is a good thing that they like her, for them. It makes their life so much fuller, and that is what I want for them. But that insidious, petty, jealous, ugly part of my soul wants them to hate her.
I feel as though I have just spent hours on a therapists couch. It's wonderful to get that venom out. It really isn't good for the psyche to hold that shit in.
Perhaps sometime I'll post about the time she cut my daughter's hair, her beautiful hair which hung to the middle of her back in a blonde, shiny curtain. She cut it just below her ears. I struggled that day, alot, not to choke the bitch with my bare hands and pull every damn hair out of her head.