..i am the bullet in the gun..

Jul 18, 2007 12:53

the morning started off great. we had the girls over last night (-gasp- regina actually let me handle bringing them to the drop-off point and whatnot..), so i had to get them up, get them ready, feed them breakfast, and just play step-mommy which can be kinda fun...it was really cute getting to scoop jordyn out of bed and snuggle with her and plop her onto the couch with her bowl of cereal and bananas..and "batty," of course. "batty" has become their favorite object of affection, and was the stuffed bat i took with me to australia. they LOVE it. they fight over it. it's like a game coming up with ways to make them take turns and figuring out which objects i can barter with them to swap out in return for "batty"...so that they aren't crying and whatnot..because trust me, it's happened.

ANYways, i got them ready to go. 10 to 8, i get them loaded up, drive up to Kroger's to wait for Regina..at 8am, she isn't there. SURPRISE! she's never on time. EVER. yesterday, she was 45 minutes late for chris. -rme- she lost track of time. -grr- anyways, she finally rolls up in the passenger seat of her boyfriend's wrecked car. he gets out with a cigarette in hand to get the girls into the car. i tell him thanks, he gets back in the car, where they have to sit. i am having an inward FIT. i snap a photo on my camera phone of him with his cigarette and the girls in the backseat..of course, it didn't come out so well. i was shaking, i was so livid. if i offend anyone who smokes, i could really give two shits. these kids are already predisposed to some serious breast cancer. every aunt regina has on her mom's side has had it, she's had a cousin who has no breasts, her mom's had it, and regina refuses to get a mamogram. but anyways, it kills me to know that they are in an environment (because of regina's boyfriend, no less) where they are exposed to these toxins because she lets them be. so i called chris, pissed the fuck off. anyways, he sent her a message. michael called chris all huffin' and puffin' askin' if there was anything he'd like to say to him face to face. chris said, "yeah, stop smoking in front of my kids." his big response is, "i don't smoke in regina's apartment or in her van. my apartment and my car are mine." well, that's his right. i understand. but regina is a fucking RETARD. that's the point. she's a horrible parent. and every fucking court system thinks automatically the mother is the better parent and that has just got to stop. i have a feeling a letter to the editor is coming on.

kentucky just banned smoking in bars all over louisville metro. why? because smoking is harmful. second hand smoke is harmful. okay, fine! so why the fuck would you allow your children to be around it? hmmm. der der der. wouldn't you think a court system would back that up? yeah, for a father..probably not, huh? regina would have to be a crack whore, i'm sure. she may as well be.

so then michael starts boohooing about how he doesn't have to but he's taking her downtown for assistance because she's got no income. and who's fault is that?! the dumb bitch has not lifted a finger since chris left. DUH! i'd need assistance too. i'd need someone to kick me in the fucking ass and tell me to go out and support MY FUCKING KIDS! just like my ex husband is doing by giving me half of his paycheck every month. omg. then he brings up her miscarriage for some ungodly reason. it's none of his business. hell, it's none of mine. apparently caitlyn brought it up one day, and it upset regina.. she started having chest pains. boo hoo. the kids randomly bring it up sometimes. they talk about things at random all the time. jordyn just the other day said "mommy used to be in love with brian. no she loves michael. she used to love daddy. but they broke up too." i mean...hello. that's not chris' fault. what a fucktard.

anyways. what has this got to do with GOOD PARENTS DON'T LET THEIR GREASY ASS BOYFRIENDS SMOKE AROUND THEIR CHILDREN? yeah...nothing. she'd rather fucking get laid. pathetic. -rme-

omg. i'm so pissed.
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