My Dog Has Fleas...

Big Goofy Dog woke me up scratching. He has fleas.

G***** woke me up next -- "Mommy sleep with me." She is upstairs now coughing in her sleep.

J**** was up next, puking his guts out -- GOOD -- from a drunk he decided to tie on starting Saturday afternoon.

F**** & the Son are sleeping soundly.

I am blogging.
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Yes, I am just as bamboozled as the rest of you. Why do I tolerate living with an alcoholic? Yes, I love him, but I am miserable.

He went to work Saturday morning and didn't return until after 10:00 pm. I knew he got off work around 2:00pm went to pool room. He tells me what he did the next day. Out to play poker, got drunk, came home, woke up the entire house and tormented us.

Me and 3 babies in one bed. Before, we go to sleep F**** says "Mommy, when Daddy comes home, pretend you are asleep and he'll leave you alone." "He's drunk Mommy." I didn't have to pretend, I fell asleep. I wake for a minute when I hear him come in, but drift right back off to sleep.

At 12:52 his drunken butt comes in the room and starts kissing his children. Awww how sweet. Yeah, it would have been if he wasn't stumbling over his own feet and causing a ruckus. He then decides, I'm going to lay in the bed too. It is only a full size bed, not a queen, not a king, just a simple little full size bed. Not room for 6'3" of arms and legs with the rest of us. He proceeds to use my neck as an elbow rest. I shove him off, it hurt. I politely ask him to go and get in one of the other beds and not wake his children.

Now it starts. He's going to kick my teeth in. "Go ahead, meet me downstairs and just try it." I'd kick his drunk butt. He smacks me on the butt, real hard. Wakes the son. "Come on woman, let me kick your teeth in." I say please do, so I've got something to go to the police with... F**** wakes up. J**** passes out. I take F**** and the son in other room. Ms. G***** sleeps through the whole thing.

Sunday, I remind him that the police have given us ten days to remove an old vehicle from the yard and tomorrow is the last day. Please clean it out and call your coworker who said he would move it to the shop. He keeps groping, pinching my breasts, pushing hands down my pants. I hit him really hard and tell him to leave me alone. He proclaims that I am mean!!! "Do it your damn self." He takes off walking at 11:23 a.m.

I do it my damn self. Clean all the junk out of the truck. I see a man up the street mowing a yard. Yell at him, how much to mow mine. The yard gets mowed, trimmed, and edged.

I see the police circling the neighborhood, and back comes J**** drunk again (after 1:30pm). Police are looking for drunken neighbor. Of course that is where J**** has been. He fusses because someone is mowing his yard. I remind him he told me to do it all my damn self and for him to go in the house and call the guy to come and get the truck. Truck is still there.

He spends rest of afternoon playing with girls in yard. Falling around drunk. Loses my cell phone twice in yard. Finally around 4:30 he passes out on the couch.

The children and I then roast hotdogs and marshmallows on our fire pit.

Can you believe that he has the audacity to call me mean? Isn't his neglect of his family what is mean?

Oooooh, why can't I cut him loose and tell him to "Do it your damn self?"

Oh yeah, we are struggling money wise and he gives his dad $120.00. Don't even get me started.