I’m not sure when I’ll be able to upload this post but I’m writing it up on my laptop at my parents’ house. Today is Saturday March 20th and I’m staying overnight at my parents with Melyssa. Why? Simple. Chantale and I got a puppy today. An absolutely adorable little Bichon Frise. We chose her mainly because she’s not a dander-shedding breed and we wanted to ensure Melyssa would have no problems with her. Hence, even the extra precaution of the Hepa filter in her room.
Unfortuntely, her mother doesn’t believe that’s enough. As far as she’s concerned, Melyssa is NOT to even go INTO a house where a dog is. Mine included. She doesn’t believe in anything outside of what her doctor says, as long as he doesn’t say anything about her boyfriend’s smoking. Of course, it’s not so much what her doctor says that bothers me. No, it’s what SHE says to MY daughter that both shocks and disgusts me. Let me explain.
After I picked up the kids on Friday night, we headed out to the Cote Vertu shopping center to kill some time before Chantale finished working. We spent the time walking around and then talking. When I began to question her about what the doctor had told her, she started bawling. Why? Because according to her mother, if I got a dog, it meant that I loved and wanted a dog more than I loved or wanted my daughter. And if that wasn’t enough to have the poor kid break down in heart-wrenching sobs, she followed up that oh-so-brilliant line of reasoning by telling Melyssa that if I got a dog, I would be killing her.
Needless to say, my daughter was completely falling apart. Her doctor tells her she can’t be near dogs, and her mother telling her that I would be killing her by getting a dog. If there is anyone that deserves the award of “First Class Bitch” it would definitely fall to her, hands down.
Something else that sticks in my craw? Whenver I have questioned her about her boyfriend’s smoking habits, she gets all defensive in that he blah blah blah (you’ve heard it all before). The kids, however, tell me another story. He smokes a lot more than just 2 cigarettes a day. And, he doesn’t do it when they’re in bed (so much for her excuse that he “walks around to air himself out so the kids don’t smell anything” story). So, his walking around with all those lovely little carcinogens on his clothes, hair, and skin and being near my daugther doesn’t bother her mother. But my having a puppy that is considered hypo-allergenic and who doesn’t release dander does bother her. Even with my sterlizing Melyssa’s bedroom. What a lousy, controlling skank.
There are so many more stories about her lousy antics and constant attempts to control my life that I can easily fill a book on it. A lot of things are written in my online journals of the past found on my Parenting Website. Plus, I’ve told a number of people about some others as well. This, of course, makes it difficult for me to remember what I’ve said and written already. On occassion, though, I will repeat something, especially stuff that I still have trouble believing.
For now, I’ll stop here. I have things to plan and lawyers to think about.