Wives, Kids and the Future

I can honestly say that the girl with whom I am currently living is the only woman I have ever truly loved (yes, that includes my ex-wife). Recently, she brought up the subject of marriage. Not bluntly, however. Her exact words were: "Do you think we'll be together forever?" Now, I'm a smart-ass, so my first thought was: "Well, probably not. One of us has to die eventually." Then my brain kicked in and I decided that might not be the best response. So I said the next best thing that came to mind: "I don't know."

I really had no idea how to answer this question. Do I love this woman? Absolutely. Can I see myself spending the rest of my life with her? Definitely. Do I want to marry her? Hell no.

I don't even really know why I don't want to except for the fact that I once promised a woman we'd be together forever. Hell, I even promised it in front of a shitload of my friends and family. Look where that ended up. Less than ten years after we made that promise to each other, she's already promised the same thing to someone else.

My point is, I don't know what the future holds. I can't say if we'll be together forever, or in a year from now, or even tomorrow. I don't know what will happen. Maybe one of my smart-ass responses will drive her off the deep end and she'll murder me later on tonight. Who knows?

The other thing that bothers me is the discussion of children came up at the same time. This is another area where we run into problems. I want kids and she doesn't. I might seem weird that I want kids, seeing as I already have four of them. So, she asked me why I was so adamant about having kids. Good enough question, as this was one of the reasons I cited for not wanting to get married. My response, as usual, was: "I don't know."

Then I got to thinking about it. Why do I want kids so much?

Okay, a bit of a history lesson about Joe: Joe got married at a very young age and had several beautiful children. Joe should have considered himself the luckiest guy in the world. Beautiful wife, beautiful kids, decent job, everything a guy could want. So what does Joe do? Joe does drugs. Joe ignores his wife and treats her like crap. He doesn't hit her, but he doesn't actually make her think he loves her (he acutally didn't but he convinced himself he did). So, anyway, Joe's wife leaves him and takes the kids with her. Joe hits rock bottom tries to kill himself, the whole bit. So when Joe finally realizes what a dipshit he is, he gets cleaned up and decides to start his life over. This includes moving to Calgary, Alberta. So now Joe is very far away from his kids.

I'm telling you all this because I think I figured out why I want kids so much. I remember back when I was still with my wife. The best part of my day was when I would come home from work and as soon as I opened the door, I could hear the pounding of feet running for the door and my kids yelling "Daddy!" Then they would hug me and not let go, even when I tried to shake them off me. Right now, as I live in a different province than my kids, I miss that more than anything. I long to hear my children run to me as I walk through the door because they missed me.

I think that is why I want kids so much.

I'd like to hear thoughts on this if anyone feels like commenting.

Writing updates: Still plugging away at Hatred and have a few more short stories in the works. Still haven't heard back about "The Demon Inside Her." I'm really anxious about that one. Oh well. I'm still hoping for the best.

That's all for now.


Cheers,

Joe

Living With Lucifer

So, we now have a new addition to our household. We bought a kitten. The little guy looks just like Puss in Boots from Shrek. It took us awhile to come up with his name. Dawnn and I thought about it and discussed options. I wanted Damien. She didn't. She thought of Spaz, which suited him and we put it on the maybe list. I came with with Furby (short for furball). She liked it but ultimately decided it didn't suit him since he's a short-haird cat. It was her sister who came up with the name. While Dawnn was talking to her on the phone, she called out to me that her sister suggested Lucifer. I burst out laughing. Dawnn said she liked it. So, Lucifer is the name of our new pet. So far that name has offended two christians. Hopefully more will be offended in the near future.

The other thing that I would like to discuss--ok, I mean rant--is my ex-wife. I'm sure if anybody is reading this, they don't really care about my ongoing feud with the ex, but I really need to vent.

At the end of the last school year, on the very last day, my 5 year old son, who has since turned six, fell of a jungle gym and broke his arm. Now it would have been nice if my ex-wife decided to pick up the phone and inform me of this, but of course she didn't. I heard it two weeks after the fact from my mother. Now, I realize that I do not live in the same city as my children, and I really hate that fact. I would live near them if I could, but right now it isn't possible. For personal reasons I had to move away. SO, now my kids live with their mother and step-father and as far as they're concerned, I am no longer the father of my children. My kids have even started calling their step-father "Dad." This irks me to no end.

So anyway, the same son who broke his arm (I have to specify this since I have enough children that some people thought I was shooting for a baseball team) is going to Barrie, ON for dental surgery. Apparently he has nine cavities and needs a tooth capped. Now, did I hear this from the considerate ex-wife who informs me of all the things happening to my children? Of course not. I heard it from my mother since my ex has her head so far up her ass that she can't be bothered to inform me of anything going on with my kids. Apparently, they're not my kids anymore even though I was there when they were born (even cut the cord of the first three), I rocked them to sleep at night, I drove them to the hospital when accidents would happen, I stayed with their selfish bitch of a mother just so I could see them everyday. I remember staying up all night in emergency when the two older ones had pneumonia. I put up with heartache of one of my kids refusing to talk to me everytime I call because he's still mad at me for leaving. But will my ex treat me like I'm their father? Of course not.

Hell, when we split up four years ago, turns out she had just gotten pregnant with our fourth child. She didn't even bother to tell me for seven months! I even overlooked that and tried to reconcile our marriage because I wanted to be with my kids. But apparently, none of that is good enough.

I call them when I get the chance, but will she actually pick up the phone and call me so I can talk to my kids? Of course not.

So, I am at a loss as to what I should do about this. I know I wasn't the greatest husband or father, but I did my best. But still, my kids are calling someone else "Dad" and that hurts me more than I can ever put into words. I feel like I've lost my kids.

I started thinking about this yesterday when Dawnn suggested that my compulsive book buying has something to do with the fact that I am trying to compensate for something that is missing in my life. She pointed out that when some people get depressed they eat, or starve themselves, or drink. Apparently I buy limited edition signed hardcovers. Speaking of which, a few more should be arriving in the mail either today or tomorrow. I am so stoked.

But anyway, I'm getting off track. If anyone has any advice on this subject, please let me know. I really don't know how to deal with this situation and it's driving me nuts.

Writing updates: Hatred really wasn't going well at all, so I scrapped what I had and started over last night. I think I started too early in the story, so I picked a later point and started there. We'll see how that works out. Still waiting to hear back on my submission "The Demon Inside Her." I'm quite proud of that one, being my first flash-fiction piece. I think I did quite well. I'm getting really impatient. It's been over a month, so I hope to hear back soon.

That's all for today.

Until next time,

Joe (aka psychomule)