Happy New Year’s Eve.

Congratulations –  We’re under 24 hours away from putting up the 2019 calendar – somehow.   It’s been a pretty crazy year.

Yeh, but it’s over.
Let the new craziness begin!

Yesterday was kind of a fruit loop.
In the morning, the boy’s mother and step-dad stopped to visit.
Apparently, the Sunday visits are routine.  That’s fine.   I’m 100% in support of keeping the communication lines open in families.  But, I am very, very, very cautious around her.

She’s a bit of an emotional abuser.  I think you’d really have to see her in action to understand.  The lady has a long history of taking advantage of people for financial gain.   I have aunts like that who I don’t talk to unless a family member dies.  The boy’s mom would fit in well with them.

When she was here, I tried to make myself a non-entity for a while.  Didn’t speak unless I was spoken to.  I only offered assistance when needed.    I felt kind of odd doing so because I think I have a gene to be a considerate host, but I just really don’t know how to take this person — despite all the years I’ve known her.  Even more so, I don’t like the effect that she can have on the boy.

Yes.  The boy is a grown-ass man, but we all have a soft spot for moms.. to a degree.   I just don’t like what has happened previously and it irks me when she comes into my house.

Well, I don’t know if I can call it my house.  The boy pays for the house and utilities.   I mean, I did for a while.. but don’t anymore.  I’m not sure.

That evening, we went to a kind of decrepit IHop in a poor part of town to celebrate a birthday.   Apparently, the boy’s dad is turning 65 and is ready to go on Medicare.  The dad can make the boy feel uncomfortable as well — another long history story — and I feel a bit like I’m walking on hot coals around him.   Although, truthfully, the dad is a bit more charming than the mom.  But, he’s also more intelligent and can be just as manipulative.

Being the only girl over 10 and under 60, I kind of felt like it was my duty to keep an eye on the boy’s nieces —  four blondes, one brunette, between the age of –  I’m not sure.   I think the oldest one is in second or third grade.  The youngest might be in kindergarten or ready to start.

Actually, I was more than happy to look after them if it allowed everyone else to have a rare and productive conversation – but that wasn’t meant to be.  The boy is a chick magnet.  In this case, they gleefully kicked him under the table, untied his shoes, and did their best to hit him with spitballs.   At the end, they attacked him by scratching his back, the back of his head, and one was poking him in the side.  He was nearly pig-squealing.

I guess this means that he’s the “cool” uncle.  Although their parents told them to address me as ‘aunt,’ I feel like I’m anything but.  That’s okay.   I’m not sure what being an aunt is like or how I should even react since all of my aunts are abusers and barely on my Christmas card list.

Watching them destroy Ihop’s napkins for spitball ammunition leaves me feeling a bit hollow.  Way early in our relationship, the boy and I decided that we wanted children – at least one.

Our own upbringing was pretty shitty, so we swore to each other that any child of ours wouldn’t experience the problems that we did – absent parents, divorce, verbal abuse… and we would support them in whatever endeavors they wanted to be a part of.  They could have friends over, go to parties, and participate in any school activities they wanted.

Yes, we know it wouldn’t be perfect – but it would be better than what we had.  That was a key point.   We knew what not to do.  We wanted to make our children better — and probably have some sort of second childhood through them.  =)

That didn’t come to pass and is unlikely to at this point.
Despite of our actions, we still can’t support a child in the way we would like.   It doesn’t help that my primary residence is some 1000 miles away either.

Anyway…
Since the boy’s brothers had two girls apiece, I’m fairly certain that the boy would have fathered girls as well.  Given our genetic make-up, my mind’s eye saw blondes — with a hopeful outside chance of a ginger like me.  Blue eyes.  Tall.  Intelligent.  Witty.

Of course, they’d be stubborn, obstinant, and a bit set in their ways.  They wouldn’t be princesses and nor would I want them to be.

Rather, they would just be and we would let them be in a happy and supportive family.

But… no.

Still, I felt that I could almost see a ghost of my little one showing the others how to properly prepare and project a spitball.

Weird sort of day.

Anyways…..  If you’re going anywhere tonight, be careful.   There’s a lot of loons on the road today and tomorrow.  If you drink, be careful of mickeys and try not to become fall-down drunk.   No one likes that.   It’s not fun and your friends could post pictures on social media.

All the best to you and yours.