What's new
Fantasy Football - Footballguys Forums

This is a sample guest message. Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

GM's Thread About Everything/GM's Thread About Nothing (22 Viewers)

General Malaise said:
Blessed?  

The twins refuse to sleep through the night in their own cribs.  We've tried everything.  Their ability to scream like a hot poker is getting jammed up their bungholes for English Patient lengths of time without letting up means my wife scoops them up and puts them in bed with her.  My 4 year old does a great job going to bed, but every night between 1am and 3am, she gets up and wants to find her mom.  To combat that, I usually sleep in her bed to keep her from wandering the dark halls in search of her mom.  And generally, it gets us through the night and no, I don't give a hamster #### what anybody here there or anywhere has to say about that arrangement.  However, the 4 year old from time to time will protest the fact that it's me and not her mom next to her and will pitch a fit at {insert AM time here} to go find her and when I tell her "NO GO BACK TO BED" she will, periodically, respond by angrily pissing herself.  I've been peed on more than a fluffer in a squirt film (it's pee) since June.  Blessed, huh?

Every night, I get down on my hands and knees and it isn't to thank god or jebus or allah or buddha or zorathustra or thor kobanawad or whomever it is Homer is using as his higher power right now.  I'm down scrubbing the remains of meals that our kids can't fit into their gaping maws, landing onto our hardwood floors that I paid big money to put in thinking it would be easier to clean than other kitchen surfaces.  Yogurt and raspberries and sauces and I don't even know what they are glued on like paste and when I'm done, it's off to clean the rest of the kitchen that looks like the scene from Boomerang where Eddie Murphy begs Halle Berry to stay and help him do dishes before slipping her the high hard one, except I'm not slipping anything to anybody anymore because I have less interest in sex than I do learning calculus.   And I do this because I'm a neat freak and I hate mess and I hate the shape of the house that I spent over $100,000 remodeling to have the sort of nice things I've never had before in life and because my wife is over-worked, over-tired and doing her part to get the kids to sleep so maybe just maybe we can have an hour to ourselves.  Except of course, most nights we have teenagers too and we need to spend time with them, especially the one who is struggling in school because his diabetes requires him to spend too much time at the nurse's office to regulate his blood missing vital class time and he's got anxiety over it and worries that he'll fall behind so we work with him and his teachers and the nurses and it's all up to us because his mom, she doesn't do 'school things'; she hasn't made it to a school conference since 2009.

When I do get moments to myself, I constantly worry about keeping us afloat financially because my line of work is entirely dependant upon forces that are outside my control and while I enjoy the new prospects and feel like we're sitting on a big score, we're a few years away from realizing it and if I've learned anything at all in this world of investing, there are no sure things, even when it looks like you've identified one and bet accordingly.  One income and 7 mouths to feed takes its toll and there's no enjoying that ball of stress that sits inside of you like a radioactive anchor and zorathustra help you if you dare think about financing college which is 4.5 years away from my oldest child who is doing brilliantly in school and will no doubt want to explore the better schools out there who want him and vice versa and I have peeked at price tags and throw-up in my mouth when I see $50,000+ annually and do the math in my head times 4 years times 5 kids and I ####### just want to melt down and cry.

And say I do finally get to the finish line and all kids are gone and the house is empty and I miss the chaos and the mess and the screams and the drama and the stress, I'll be in my mid-60s and there will be much bigger problems rapidly coming down the pipe. Forget about retirement, that's out entirely.  I'll be working until the day I die to try and repair the financial damage inflicted upon me so there likely won't be any sitting around a quiet house recalling the days gone by as I'll be propped up like Dead Bernie waving to folks as they come into WalMart, handing out circulars and telling them where they can find bulk condoms and Today's Sponge.  Blessed?  Yeah, I'm blessed like Alexander in the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
Click to expand...
At least you have summers off.

 
General Malaise said:
Blessed?  

The twins refuse to sleep through the night in their own cribs.  We've tried everything.  Their ability to scream like a hot poker is getting jammed up their bungholes for English Patient lengths of time without letting up means my wife scoops them up and puts them in bed with her.  My 4 year old does a great job going to bed, but every night between 1am and 3am, she gets up and wants to find her mom.  To combat that, I usually sleep in her bed to keep her from wandering the dark halls in search of her mom.  And generally, it gets us through the night and no, I don't give a hamster #### what anybody here there or anywhere has to say about that arrangement.  However, the 4 year old from time to time will protest the fact that it's me and not her mom next to her and will pitch a fit at {insert AM time here} to go find her and when I tell her "NO GO BACK TO BED" she will, periodically, respond by angrily pissing herself.  I've been peed on more than a fluffer in a squirt film (it's pee) since June.  Blessed, huh?

Every night, I get down on my hands and knees and it isn't to thank god or jebus or allah or buddha or zorathustra or thor kobanawad or whomever it is Homer is using as his higher power right now.  I'm down scrubbing the remains of meals that our kids can't fit into their gaping maws, landing onto our hardwood floors that I paid big money to put in thinking it would be easier to clean than other kitchen surfaces.  Yogurt and raspberries and sauces and I don't even know what they are glued on like paste and when I'm done, it's off to clean the rest of the kitchen that looks like the scene from Boomerang where Eddie Murphy begs Halle Berry to stay and help him do dishes before slipping her the high hard one, except I'm not slipping anything to anybody anymore because I have less interest in sex than I do learning calculus.   And I do this because I'm a neat freak and I hate mess and I hate the shape of the house that I spent over $100,000 remodeling to have the sort of nice things I've never had before in life and because my wife is over-worked, over-tired and doing her part to get the kids to sleep so maybe just maybe we can have an hour to ourselves.  Except of course, most nights we have teenagers too and we need to spend time with them, especially the one who is struggling in school because his diabetes requires him to spend too much time at the nurse's office to regulate his blood missing vital class time and he's got anxiety over it and worries that he'll fall behind so we work with him and his teachers and the nurses and it's all up to us because his mom, she doesn't do 'school things'; she hasn't made it to a school conference since 2009.

When I do get moments to myself, I constantly worry about keeping us afloat financially because my line of work is entirely dependant upon forces that are outside my control and while I enjoy the new prospects and feel like we're sitting on a big score, we're a few years away from realizing it and if I've learned anything at all in this world of investing, there are no sure things, even when it looks like you've identified one and bet accordingly.  One income and 7 mouths to feed takes its toll and there's no enjoying that ball of stress that sits inside of you like a radioactive anchor and zorathustra help you if you dare think about financing college which is 4.5 years away from my oldest child who is doing brilliantly in school and will no doubt want to explore the better schools out there who want him and vice versa and I have peeked at price tags and throw-up in my mouth when I see $50,000+ annually and do the math in my head times 4 years times 5 kids and I ####### just want to melt down and cry.

And say I do finally get to the finish line and all kids are gone and the house is empty and I miss the chaos and the mess and the screams and the drama and the stress, I'll be in my mid-60s and there will be much bigger problems rapidly coming down the pipe. Forget about retirement, that's out entirely.  I'll be working until the day I die to try and repair the financial damage inflicted upon me so there likely won't be any sitting around a quiet house recalling the days gone by as I'll be propped up like Dead Bernie waving to folks as they come into WalMart, handing out circulars and telling them where they can find bulk condoms and Today's Sponge.  Blessed?  Yeah, I'm blessed like Alexander in the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
Click to expand...
You're a good dude GM. Just wanted to let you know you're not alone. There are many people out there in similar situations as you, including me. Reading your thoughts and fears and worries is like you're pulling the words out of my head.

 
RedmondLonghorn said:
Yeah. I've done this.

His mom has been an active participant in poisoning the well against Wife 2.0 and me.

His mom has also cast herself as the victim in the divorce (and in other things since) because that's what she does. I'm obviously a touch biased, but she has been anything but the victim.

Unfortunately, she seems to have passed on this unaccountable victim's mentality on to my son. My other kids have it too, but they have been at least partially shaken out of it.
Click to expand...
Kinda bumming me out since this is the opposite of the 'kids are better off with parents divorced instead of fighting' advice.

 
General Malaise said:
Blessed?  

The twins refuse to sleep through the night in their own cribs.  We've tried everything.  Their ability to scream like a hot poker is getting jammed up their bungholes for English Patient lengths of time without letting up means my wife scoops them up and puts them in bed with her.  My 4 year old does a great job going to bed, but every night between 1am and 3am, she gets up and wants to find her mom.  To combat that, I usually sleep in her bed to keep her from wandering the dark halls in search of her mom.  And generally, it gets us through the night and no, I don't give a hamster #### what anybody here there or anywhere has to say about that arrangement.  However, the 4 year old from time to time will protest the fact that it's me and not her mom next to her and will pitch a fit at {insert AM time here} to go find her and when I tell her "NO GO BACK TO BED" she will, periodically, respond by angrily pissing herself.  I've been peed on more than a fluffer in a squirt film (it's pee) since June.  Blessed, huh?

Every night, I get down on my hands and knees and it isn't to thank god or jebus or allah or buddha or zorathustra or thor kobanawad or whomever it is Homer is using as his higher power right now.  I'm down scrubbing the remains of meals that our kids can't fit into their gaping maws, landing onto our hardwood floors that I paid big money to put in thinking it would be easier to clean than other kitchen surfaces.  Yogurt and raspberries and sauces and I don't even know what they are glued on like paste and when I'm done, it's off to clean the rest of the kitchen that looks like the scene from Boomerang where Eddie Murphy begs Halle Berry to stay and help him do dishes before slipping her the high hard one, except I'm not slipping anything to anybody anymore because I have less interest in sex than I do learning calculus.   And I do this because I'm a neat freak and I hate mess and I hate the shape of the house that I spent over $100,000 remodeling to have the sort of nice things I've never had before in life and because my wife is over-worked, over-tired and doing her part to get the kids to sleep so maybe just maybe we can have an hour to ourselves.  Except of course, most nights we have teenagers too and we need to spend time with them, especially the one who is struggling in school because his diabetes requires him to spend too much time at the nurse's office to regulate his blood missing vital class time and he's got anxiety over it and worries that he'll fall behind so we work with him and his teachers and the nurses and it's all up to us because his mom, she doesn't do 'school things'; she hasn't made it to a school conference since 2009.

When I do get moments to myself, I constantly worry about keeping us afloat financially because my line of work is entirely dependant upon forces that are outside my control and while I enjoy the new prospects and feel like we're sitting on a big score, we're a few years away from realizing it and if I've learned anything at all in this world of investing, there are no sure things, even when it looks like you've identified one and bet accordingly.  One income and 7 mouths to feed takes its toll and there's no enjoying that ball of stress that sits inside of you like a radioactive anchor and zorathustra help you if you dare think about financing college which is 4.5 years away from my oldest child who is doing brilliantly in school and will no doubt want to explore the better schools out there who want him and vice versa and I have peeked at price tags and throw-up in my mouth when I see $50,000+ annually and do the math in my head times 4 years times 5 kids and I ####### just want to melt down and cry.

And say I do finally get to the finish line and all kids are gone and the house is empty and I miss the chaos and the mess and the screams and the drama and the stress, I'll be in my mid-60s and there will be much bigger problems rapidly coming down the pipe. Forget about retirement, that's out entirely.  I'll be working until the day I die to try and repair the financial damage inflicted upon me so there likely won't be any sitting around a quiet house recalling the days gone by as I'll be propped up like Dead Bernie waving to folks as they come into WalMart, handing out circulars and telling them where they can find bulk condoms and Today's Sponge.  Blessed?  Yeah, I'm blessed like Alexander in the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
Click to expand...
Come with me to Tanzania some time and I'll help you get some perspective.  It doesn't seem like it but you are ####ing blessed.

 
General Malaise said:
Blessed?  

The twins refuse to sleep through the night in their own cribs.  We've tried everything.  Their ability to scream like a hot poker is getting jammed up their bungholes for English Patient lengths of time without letting up means my wife scoops them up and puts them in bed with her.  My 4 year old does a great job going to bed, but every night between 1am and 3am, she gets up and wants to find her mom.  To combat that, I usually sleep in her bed to keep her from wandering the dark halls in search of her mom.  And generally, it gets us through the night and no, I don't give a hamster #### what anybody here there or anywhere has to say about that arrangement.  However, the 4 year old from time to time will protest the fact that it's me and not her mom next to her and will pitch a fit at {insert AM time here} to go find her and when I tell her "NO GO BACK TO BED" she will, periodically, respond by angrily pissing herself.  I've been peed on more than a fluffer in a squirt film (it's pee) since June.  Blessed, huh?

Every night, I get down on my hands and knees and it isn't to thank god or jebus or allah or buddha or zorathustra or thor kobanawad or whomever it is Homer is using as his higher power right now.  I'm down scrubbing the remains of meals that our kids can't fit into their gaping maws, landing onto our hardwood floors that I paid big money to put in thinking it would be easier to clean than other kitchen surfaces.  Yogurt and raspberries and sauces and I don't even know what they are glued on like paste and when I'm done, it's off to clean the rest of the kitchen that looks like the scene from Boomerang where Eddie Murphy begs Halle Berry to stay and help him do dishes before slipping her the high hard one, except I'm not slipping anything to anybody anymore because I have less interest in sex than I do learning calculus.   And I do this because I'm a neat freak and I hate mess and I hate the shape of the house that I spent over $100,000 remodeling to have the sort of nice things I've never had before in life and because my wife is over-worked, over-tired and doing her part to get the kids to sleep so maybe just maybe we can have an hour to ourselves.  Except of course, most nights we have teenagers too and we need to spend time with them, especially the one who is struggling in school because his diabetes requires him to spend too much time at the nurse's office to regulate his blood missing vital class time and he's got anxiety over it and worries that he'll fall behind so we work with him and his teachers and the nurses and it's all up to us because his mom, she doesn't do 'school things'; she hasn't made it to a school conference since 2009.

When I do get moments to myself, I constantly worry about keeping us afloat financially because my line of work is entirely dependant upon forces that are outside my control and while I enjoy the new prospects and feel like we're sitting on a big score, we're a few years away from realizing it and if I've learned anything at all in this world of investing, there are no sure things, even when it looks like you've identified one and bet accordingly.  One income and 7 mouths to feed takes its toll and there's no enjoying that ball of stress that sits inside of you like a radioactive anchor and zorathustra help you if you dare think about financing college which is 4.5 years away from my oldest child who is doing brilliantly in school and will no doubt want to explore the better schools out there who want him and vice versa and I have peeked at price tags and throw-up in my mouth when I see $50,000+ annually and do the math in my head times 4 years times 5 kids and I ####### just want to melt down and cry.

And say I do finally get to the finish line and all kids are gone and the house is empty and I miss the chaos and the mess and the screams and the drama and the stress, I'll be in my mid-60s and there will be much bigger problems rapidly coming down the pipe. Forget about retirement, that's out entirely.  I'll be working until the day I die to try and repair the financial damage inflicted upon me so there likely won't be any sitting around a quiet house recalling the days gone by as I'll be propped up like Dead Bernie waving to folks as they come into WalMart, handing out circulars and telling them where they can find bulk condoms and Today's Sponge.  Blessed?  Yeah, I'm blessed like Alexander in the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
Click to expand...
This post should be the main unit of every sex ed curriculum.  Love you GB. 

 
General Malaise said:
Blessed?  

The twins refuse to sleep through the night in their own cribs.  We've tried everything.  Their ability to scream like a hot poker is getting jammed up their bungholes for English Patient lengths of time without letting up means my wife scoops them up and puts them in bed with her.  My 4 year old does a great job going to bed, but every night between 1am and 3am, she gets up and wants to find her mom.  To combat that, I usually sleep in her bed to keep her from wandering the dark halls in search of her mom.  And generally, it gets us through the night and no, I don't give a hamster #### what anybody here there or anywhere has to say about that arrangement.  However, the 4 year old from time to time will protest the fact that it's me and not her mom next to her and will pitch a fit at {insert AM time here} to go find her and when I tell her "NO GO BACK TO BED" she will, periodically, respond by angrily pissing herself.  I've been peed on more than a fluffer in a squirt film (it's pee) since June.  Blessed, huh?

Every night, I get down on my hands and knees and it isn't to thank god or jebus or allah or buddha or zorathustra or thor kobanawad or whomever it is Homer is using as his higher power right now.  I'm down scrubbing the remains of meals that our kids can't fit into their gaping maws, landing onto our hardwood floors that I paid big money to put in thinking it would be easier to clean than other kitchen surfaces.  Yogurt and raspberries and sauces and I don't even know what they are glued on like paste and when I'm done, it's off to clean the rest of the kitchen that looks like the scene from Boomerang where Eddie Murphy begs Halle Berry to stay and help him do dishes before slipping her the high hard one, except I'm not slipping anything to anybody anymore because I have less interest in sex than I do learning calculus.   And I do this because I'm a neat freak and I hate mess and I hate the shape of the house that I spent over $100,000 remodeling to have the sort of nice things I've never had before in life and because my wife is over-worked, over-tired and doing her part to get the kids to sleep so maybe just maybe we can have an hour to ourselves.  Except of course, most nights we have teenagers too and we need to spend time with them, especially the one who is struggling in school because his diabetes requires him to spend too much time at the nurse's office to regulate his blood missing vital class time and he's got anxiety over it and worries that he'll fall behind so we work with him and his teachers and the nurses and it's all up to us because his mom, she doesn't do 'school things'; she hasn't made it to a school conference since 2009.

When I do get moments to myself, I constantly worry about keeping us afloat financially because my line of work is entirely dependant upon forces that are outside my control and while I enjoy the new prospects and feel like we're sitting on a big score, we're a few years away from realizing it and if I've learned anything at all in this world of investing, there are no sure things, even when it looks like you've identified one and bet accordingly.  One income and 7 mouths to feed takes its toll and there's no enjoying that ball of stress that sits inside of you like a radioactive anchor and zorathustra help you if you dare think about financing college which is 4.5 years away from my oldest child who is doing brilliantly in school and will no doubt want to explore the better schools out there who want him and vice versa and I have peeked at price tags and throw-up in my mouth when I see $50,000+ annually and do the math in my head times 4 years times 5 kids and I ####### just want to melt down and cry.

And say I do finally get to the finish line and all kids are gone and the house is empty and I miss the chaos and the mess and the screams and the drama and the stress, I'll be in my mid-60s and there will be much bigger problems rapidly coming down the pipe. Forget about retirement, that's out entirely.  I'll be working until the day I die to try and repair the financial damage inflicted upon me so there likely won't be any sitting around a quiet house recalling the days gone by as I'll be propped up like Dead Bernie waving to folks as they come into WalMart, handing out circulars and telling them where they can find bulk condoms and Today's Sponge.  Blessed?  Yeah, I'm blessed like Alexander in the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
Click to expand...
I refuse to believe it is pee

 
I'm trying to not chuckle when I think of a 4 year old(or anyone, for that matter) "angrily peeing."  How does that even happen?  She stares you down in a murderous rage while she deliberately squats over your chest?

Other than that, I totally get how stress is just the freaking Devil and I sympathize.  I've felt like clenched fist every day for the last 7 months with this freaking employment situation.....and still doubt I'd want to trade places with you(or any Tanzanians who may be reading this, before they decide to tell me how great I've got it).

 
5-ish Finkle said:
I'm trying to not chuckle when I think of a 4 year old(or anyone, for that matter) "angrily peeing."  How does that even happen?  She stares you down in a murderous rage while she deliberately squats over your chest?

Other than that, I totally get how stress is just the freaking Devil and I sympathize.  I've felt like clenched fist every day for the last 7 months with this freaking employment situation.....and still doubt I'd want to trade places with you(or any Tanzanians who may be reading this, before they decide to tell me how great I've got it).
Click to expand...
Dude. You live in Reno. The Tanzanians wouldn't trade places with you. The people in the Congo or Liberia? Sure.

 
cstu said:
Come with me to Tanzania some time and I'll help you get some perspective.  It doesn't seem like it but you are ####ing blessed.
Click to expand...
while i agree with the general sentiment, everyone has problems and needs to vent.

telling people to put a cap on it just makes things worse

 
General Malaise said:
Blessed?  

The twins refuse to sleep through the night in their own cribs.  We've tried everything.  Their ability to scream like a hot poker is getting jammed up their bungholes for English Patient lengths of time without letting up means my wife scoops them up and puts them in bed with her.  My 4 year old does a great job going to bed, but every night between 1am and 3am, she gets up and wants to find her mom.  To combat that, I usually sleep in her bed to keep her from wandering the dark halls in search of her mom.  And generally, it gets us through the night and no, I don't give a hamster #### what anybody here there or anywhere has to say about that arrangement.  However, the 4 year old from time to time will protest the fact that it's me and not her mom next to her and will pitch a fit at {insert AM time here} to go find her and when I tell her "NO GO BACK TO BED" she will, periodically, respond by angrily pissing herself.  I've been peed on more than a fluffer in a squirt film (it's pee) since June.  Blessed, huh?

Every night, I get down on my hands and knees and it isn't to thank god or jebus or allah or buddha or zorathustra or thor kobanawad or whomever it is Homer is using as his higher power right now.  I'm down scrubbing the remains of meals that our kids can't fit into their gaping maws, landing onto our hardwood floors that I paid big money to put in thinking it would be easier to clean than other kitchen surfaces.  Yogurt and raspberries and sauces and I don't even know what they are glued on like paste and when I'm done, it's off to clean the rest of the kitchen that looks like the scene from Boomerang where Eddie Murphy begs Halle Berry to stay and help him do dishes before slipping her the high hard one, except I'm not slipping anything to anybody anymore because I have less interest in sex than I do learning calculus.   And I do this because I'm a neat freak and I hate mess and I hate the shape of the house that I spent over $100,000 remodeling to have the sort of nice things I've never had before in life and because my wife is over-worked, over-tired and doing her part to get the kids to sleep so maybe just maybe we can have an hour to ourselves.  Except of course, most nights we have teenagers too and we need to spend time with them, especially the one who is struggling in school because his diabetes requires him to spend too much time at the nurse's office to regulate his blood missing vital class time and he's got anxiety over it and worries that he'll fall behind so we work with him and his teachers and the nurses and it's all up to us because his mom, she doesn't do 'school things'; she hasn't made it to a school conference since 2009.

When I do get moments to myself, I constantly worry about keeping us afloat financially because my line of work is entirely dependant upon forces that are outside my control and while I enjoy the new prospects and feel like we're sitting on a big score, we're a few years away from realizing it and if I've learned anything at all in this world of investing, there are no sure things, even when it looks like you've identified one and bet accordingly.  One income and 7 mouths to feed takes its toll and there's no enjoying that ball of stress that sits inside of you like a radioactive anchor and zorathustra help you if you dare think about financing college which is 4.5 years away from my oldest child who is doing brilliantly in school and will no doubt want to explore the better schools out there who want him and vice versa and I have peeked at price tags and throw-up in my mouth when I see $50,000+ annually and do the math in my head times 4 years times 5 kids and I ####### just want to melt down and cry.

And say I do finally get to the finish line and all kids are gone and the house is empty and I miss the chaos and the mess and the screams and the drama and the stress, I'll be in my mid-60s and there will be much bigger problems rapidly coming down the pipe. Forget about retirement, that's out entirely.  I'll be working until the day I die to try and repair the financial damage inflicted upon me so there likely won't be any sitting around a quiet house recalling the days gone by as I'll be propped up like Dead Bernie waving to folks as they come into WalMart, handing out circulars and telling them where they can find bulk condoms and Today's Sponge.  Blessed?  Yeah, I'm blessed like Alexander in the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
Click to expand...
GB - While I'm sure the venting helps.....hope you don't mind a few pieces of unsolicited advice wrt the money aspect....I know my brethren in the personal finance threads would agree with.  I'm sure you probably know this....but I guess it can't hurt to reiterate...or you can tell me to bugger off.

Take care of 100% of your retirement before you even think about college education.  Take care of 100% of your retirement before you even think about college education. Take care of 100% of your retirement before you even think about college education. Take care of 100% of your retirement before you even think about college education.

With respect to college:

  • Community College, then regular college is ok.  
  • State schools are ok  
  • Student loans are ok provided your kids understand what they mean (i.e. can't take out an assload of $$ to major in pottery)


Yours In Christ,

TF

 
Last edited by a moderator:
Man, I hope I never get married, and I think it might be time to schedule a vasectomy... but I probably need to start having a little more sex to splurge on that expense. 

@shuke lives in Austin?  I know I have been mia, but damn. 

 
RedmondLonghorn said:
Tantalizingly vague.
Click to expand...
"Always leave 'em wanting more" etc, etc.

 Nutshell: Wife is a Florida girl.  Got tired of the thrice weekly weeping episodes so, since the market we were in was totally stagnant after three months of job searching, I acquiesced to her wish for a return.  

Far more moving parts to it, but thats the general gist. 

 
5-ish Finkle said:
"Always leave 'em wanting more" etc, etc.

 Nutshell: Wife is a Florida girl.  Got tired of the thrice weekly weeping episodes so, since the market we were in was totally stagnant after three months of job searching, I acquiesced to her wish for a return.  

Far more moving parts to it, but thats the general gist. 
Click to expand...
What part of Florida?

And have you watched the Florida Man movie?

 
RedmondLonghorn said:
I may try this.

He is in therapy with a psychologist. He says he wants things to be better to the therapist and sometimes to me, but every time he has a choice where he could show it, he doesn't. Or he makes a choice that shows the opposite.

The amount of hostility and disrespect he has shown my wife, her kids and me over the last four years would be unforgivable if he weren't my kid. But he is my kid and so the only thing it would take to be genuinely forgiven is to show that he actually wants to be. He won't.

He has told me that he decided that he didn't want to be part of this family after I got together with Wife 2.0 and that he has done all of this in the hopes he wouldn't have to come over any more. He has also told me not to expect to see him at my house again after he turns 18, which is in 23 months. He cannot point to anything she or I did to justify any of it. 

This is the worst thing that I have ever dealt with. It hurts so bad. 
Click to expand...
Sucks. Very sorry to hear.

 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Similar threads

General Malaise
GM's thread about nothing
4998 4999 5000
Replies
250K
Views
6M
rockaction
rockaction

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 19 (members: 0, guests: 19)
Back
Top