The Dutch Files

Message to department colleagues, gasstation guys, fellow drivers, lunchladies, and other people I will encounter today:

Nobody bettah even so much as point at my nose today… Just so ya know…

Yeah, that is what I sound like sorta… right now… Not because I am all snotted up… Not because I have my fingers in my nose picking it… but…

… because I have a severely bruised nose!!!

Last night The Ex dropped off The Kid as he always does on Tuesdayevening… The Kid was in a bit of a snappy mood, so I left him to simmer for a while when he came home. After he had settled down a bit, I dragged him onto the couch, and talked to him and turned out that he hadn’t had the best of weekends at his dad’s… So we talked and snuggled up for a bit and then started teasing eachother and ended up in somewhat of a fun jerking ’round eachother and then it happened…

He swung his arm around in an attempt to escape my tickling and ! SLAM ! it landed on my nose… Right on the top of it! I felt a *crack* and then excruciating pain and then blood. Holy F-ing Shit!!! I jumped up with a scream of agony, and then proceeded immediately to calm my son down who was stammering “I am sorry, Mommy”. I told him that it was not his fault, that is was ok, and I would be fine…

Uh-Huh… well “Mommy kinda fine” that is…

So now I am sitting here, upright in bed, just woke up from a restless painful night, and my nose is still killing me. I don’t think it’s broken. There is a black and blue spot at the top of my nosebridge, but fortunately it is not swollen anymore so I won’t go around looking like a freak. I think I’ll have pop me some Advil though, before I start my day…

So ghave a ghoodh Wednneshdhay… DTalkd Doeh You Latdah…

It’s Saturdaynight and I’ve just come back from what feels like the kazillionth office function these past weeks… on a friggin’ Saturday… It was a party of one of your PhD students that had her public defense this past week and can now call herself Dr. I also did her thesis lay out. She had a BBQ in the huge garden of her dad’s house in well… the Gold Coast of Dutchyland. It was a nice party, which due to it being outside in a garden enabled many of us to bring our kids, which was awesome. Other than that it’s the kind of party that I usually spend talking to colleagues and ex-colleagues and former PhD students… and being ignored by the ranks of those who became total arrogant bastards who have made it to Dr or Professor and decided that it is no longer cool to talk to me, being the “mere management-assistant”… Ah, I still remember the times when they needed my assistance and couldn’t afford arrogance… fucking bastards…

Anyway, that is not what today’s post is about. Yesterday I promised let you know what happened to my left foot. It was run over… by a total fucktard… in a fucktard fitting big ass car… on Friday.

I was attending a symposium on Friday and had hurried to the symposium location after dropping off The Kid at school. I was there just in time and rushed my car into the parking facility of the hotel that was hosting the symposium. I drove it into the parking spot backwards and while I was doing so (in one go I might ad, as I mostly do) some fucking asshole was not paying attention and álmost ran the front of his car into the front of my car júst before I had completely backed it up into the parking spot… I didn’t care. I noticed that he probably hadn’t been paying sufficient attention but ya know… all’s well that end’s well, so I wasn’t upset or angry. I just finished parking my car, got out and there he was… the fucktard driver…

He put his window down and started yelling at me about me being a bitch and not paying attention and almost running into him. I carefully but surely informed him that it was actually me parking and hím almost running into mé… He shouted at me again, gave me the once over… (what the hell is that with men! no matter what state of mind they are in, they háve to give you the once over before they leave you in peace, sheesh)… and then drove off

BACKING HIS FUCKING BIG ASS SUV UP, OVER MY LEFT FOOT!!!

Well, lets just say that I blurted out some forceful terms, and not in a quiet manner… And I think I ended my sentence with “fucking asshole!” and kicking his tire with my other foot. Holy Fucking Shit! Have you e.v.e.r. had a big ass car drive over your foot? I cannot recommend it.. seriously…

He backed up again, I managed to get my foot out of the way in time, this time, and put his window down again and asked me what the hell I was kicking his tire for…

BECAUSE YOU JUST BACKED YOUR FUCKING BIG ASS SUV OVER MY FOOT, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!

He replied with: “oh, get over it you bitch”, put his window down and then fled the scene.. I was so stupified that I didn’t even get his licence plate number… My foot was hurting like hell, but I figured it was ok. It didn’t look weird… My shoe was ruined, which was fár worse! My shoe!!! At the end of the afternoon, after driving back home, my foot started blowing up like a balloon, which made me decide to take a detour to the medical center’s ER to have it checked out afterall… I mean, it was going into the weekend… ‘n all… They X-rayed my foot and it turned out ok. The swelling has gone down in the mean time, though my foot is still hurting…

Yeah, so that was the story of some fucking asshole fucktard driving over my foot… Lemmejustsay… I never want to have that happen to me nor my foot again…

Oh and!!! ehm…. look!

Sheesh! Those Mom’s at The Kid’s school n.e.v.e.r cease to amaze me. I go to school the first Wednesdayafternoon, the only day in the week I get to pick up The Kid from school, since the schoolyear started and it’s bull’s eye already…

I have been divorced from The Ex for over 6.5 years now. It’s fine, it was my choice. I don’t get alimony. I don’t want it, never have. Things between me and The Ex ended in such a way that I would never want to take money from him. And besides, even if they hadn’t, I still wouldn’t want to. I can take care of myself. I had already been working parttime when we were still married and since I had The Kid. And with the help of The Chief, bless him, I was able to switch to a fulltime job from about the moment I walked out the door of our family home. I pull fulltime hours át the office and about double it with the work I do aside from that at home, including some extra jobs to bring in the necessary cash.

The Kid lives with me. His dad does not pay any childsupport either. Don’t ask. I don’t even want to go into that one anymore. He doesn’t and probably never will. I am done with that too. I work fulltime, I take care of myself and The Kid, he officially lives with me, we have a nice appartment, I make sure he sees his dad plenty and spends time with him, money is tight but we still have a good life. That’s it. It is what it is.

The number of mothers at The Kid’s school who slam me over the head for that… OMFG! And I think they don’t even mean to that much. It’s just total ignorance. And really, maybe that’s even worse.

We live in a small town, The Kid goes to school in the neighbouring town. He had already started school there before the divorce and as so much was changing in his life, and we decided to keep him there until everything including places to live got worked out. In the end, he ended up staying at the school indefinetely.

So here I am, on Wednesday afternoon, picking up The Kid from school. I am not the regular chatterbox at the school playground, waiting for the kids to get out of school, cuz frankly, past years have already made me realize I don’t have much in common with the mothers that are out there. But nevertheless, I go out there and wait and chat with some of them… but there is always, ALWAYS one of “them” out there… Just waiting for a chance to get on their high horse.

Ignorant Mom: “Ehm… Hi… You are The Kid’s Mom, aren’t you?”
DutchBitch: “Yes, I am. You are [insert kid's name] Mom, right?
Ignorant Mom: “Yes, I am. So ehm… I only see you around here on Wednesdays. Does The Kid go home by himself on the other days?”
DutchBitch: “No, he goes to Edith, across the street, who takes care of him before and after school till I get out of the office”
Ignorant Mom: “You mean you work fulltime!? Seriously! I could neeeeeeeeeeeeeever work with the kids still this young. Not even partime, let alone fulltime. I can’t believe you would do that!”
[OK, here we go... a.g.a.i.n.]
DutchBitch: “Yeah, well, not everyone has that choice”
Ignorant Mom: “Oh, I feel that everyone doés have a choice”
DutchBitch: “I would have to disagree with you there”
Ignorant Mom: “Well, your husband has a job right? He must earn plenty to support your family seeing as you only have 1 child anyway”
DutchBitch: “I don’t have a husband. There is such a thing as divorce. I went through that. I am divorced. I take care of The Kid and myself, by myself. Hence I work fulltime”
Ignorant Mom: “Oh really? But don’t you get alimony? And child support?”
DutchBitch: “Seriously, not that it is any of your business but NO, I don’t. So I háve to work fulltime. I do not have a choice in the matter. If I don’t work, there’s no food on the table”
Ignorant Mom: “Well, I still don’t know if I would go to work fulltime. I mean, us parents have a responsibility to raise our kids right and well, working fulltime…”
DutchBitch: “Look, let me interrupt you here. I am really happy for you that you don’t háve to work fulltime, but trust me, if you were at that point in your life you would háve no choice but to go to work fulltime. And let me tell you something else: the fact that I work fulltime, because I have to keep afloat, does not make me a bad mother. I am as good a mother as any. I cherish the time I have with my kid. There is no way around it. I work fulltime, so he goes to school and daycare, and I spend as much time with him as I can. And honestly, I think I do pretty well as a Mom. Don’t judge things you don’t know anything about, ok”

Ignorant Bitch then walked off mumbling something that kinda sounded like “bitch”… I couldn’t care less, Ignorant Cow! I am really happy for her that she is having an easier life than I am, with a loving husband, enough money to go around and not having to work. She just needs to shut the fuck up about shit she clearly has no clue about. I am not judging her or any of the other Mom’s that don’t work. Whatever their reasons for it and whether I would agree with them. She is just one of many though, that I’ve encountered in the past 7 years at that school playground…

Yes, I do work, fulltime, and some odd other extra jobs when I can. I have to. Yes, I make long hours. Yes, I have to attend office functions in evenings and abroad at times too. I have a good life though. Good enough anyway. Though times are tough, I still feel that way. I’ve learned to cherish the little things and not sweat it too much. I got thru a shitty divorce and 1.5 year being without a place to live after that. I am fucking proud of myself for the way I came out of that. Sure, money is tight and so is free personal time. However, I have the greatest son that I love to pieces and that loves me. I have the most wonderful -though long distance- boyfriend whom I love incredibly, and him and my son get on very well. I have the support of The Sis, The BIL and The Mom, ánd the cutest Lill Niece. I have a roof over my head and -though limited- I can still live my life mostly the way I want to.

And seriously? I think that I do a decent job as a Mom as far as I am concerned, especially under the circumstances. I may not be the best Mom in the world but I do the best I know how. And I would seriously dare those Ignorant Bitches to try all that and succeed…

They just get under my skin with their ignorant remarks. Though I am a tough bitch, those remarks hurt me. Because they imply that my own happiness and satisfaction would be more important to me than that of my child. And that working fulltime means I can’t possibly be a good Mom. I wish people would think a bit more about what they are saying and maybe realize that life is not the same for everyone.

The only thing important to me is that The Kid will grow up to be a wonderful man and that I had something to do with that. And that he will look back at his childhood and feel that I did an OK job, considering the circumstances. I really hope he will someday. Because thát is what matters most to me…

First of all: I am doing a lot better today than yesterday. I got the message I was waiting for, things became clear, now just waiting for how it will turn out. It will work itself out one way or another. I am not gonna explain further, my apologies for things being so cryptical… Just keeping it private. Thanks all for caring, you are wonderful, all of you!

On to business of the day: HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

Father’s day… Kind of a strange day to me… The Kid is with his dad over this weekend and celebrating over there… and my own dad… passed away over 12 years now… February 21, 1996 to be exact… I can still vividly remember the moment in the middle of the night that the phone rang… Before going to bed that night I had had a conversation with The Ex (who at the time was obviously not The Ex yet). His dad had passed away several years before. I had never had the pleasure of meeting him. I was talking about how I thought I could not fathom hów it would feel to lose a parent. Well, little did I know that I would be on the up and up of how that feels just a few hours later… The phone rang, I picked up, it was my Mom… telling me that my Dad had suffered cardiac arrest just shortly before that and had died…

My Dad… gone…

Things after that are pretty much a blur… I remember sitting on the side of the bed for several minutes, just catatonic… then we got up, got dressed and rushed our asses over to the appartment of my Mum and Dad… The appartment they had moved into just little less than a month before that. After living in our family home for over 20 years they had decided to sell that up and move to a smaller appartment. And to spend the last years till his pension and the years after that out there, in an area where there was plenty of fun stuff to do, transportation at hand… My Dad had been a headmaster for as long as I can remember. He had suffered a burn out and had just started working on a therapeutical basis again that very morning. That very morning, yes…

When The Ex and I walked in, the housedoctor had just arrived, the paramedics had already left… My Dad was lying in bed, motionless, already feeling cold… It was all surreal… I couldn’t even cry at that time… I was just processing… Looking at him, feeling him to see whether he was really gone… He was… And pulling together with my Mom and The Sis…

I was devastated at the time… Though my Dad and I didn’t really have a particular close relationship, just the regular father-daughter one I guess, losing a parent just sucks… It hurts… You know that at some point in your life its gonna happen… And it probably always will hurt… But it just shouldn’t happen when your Dad is 53 years old and your parents still have a big portion of their lives ahead of them. Especially not right at the time they’ve come up for air out of a deep dark hole in their lives and working their way to better things…

Over 12 years have passed… My Mom has been married and divorced again and moved back close to The Sis and I. She is doing ok. The hurt has faded a bit, but it never leaves. I don’t think about it every day anymore but there are times that it smacks me right in the face… that suddenly something will happen or something I see or hear will bring back the feelings of loss with no mercy…

Today is one of those days… I miss my Dad… I wish he was still here… I wish he had still been with us to be a granddad to The Kid… I wish he had been here to see how well I am doing after going thru the shitty divorce years… To see how The Sis and The BIL got married… and how, though we hadn’t really expected that to happen anymore, théy became parents to The Lill Niece… I wish he had been here to see how happiness came back into my life meeting The Guy and how happy I am with him… I am positive they would’ve liked each other as well…

I just wish he was still here…

Dad? I miss you, I miss having you around, I miss having you in my life… I am not angry you left, I don’t blame you for anything… I just miss you… Goddammit…