It is said that boys learn how to treat women by emulating their fathers.  Scary isn’t it… think that the way they will behave from now until eternity towards women will hang in the balance based on how Daddy treats Momma.   However, it is also believed that boys simultaneously learn how to appreciate women based on their relationship with their own mother and the affections they received from mom..Some say too much will destroy them…some say too little will destroy them.  And I’m hoping that somehow, I’ve managed to find the perfect balance.

But tonight, as I’m sitting here pissed once again at the head penis person (whom I will generally be referring to as the DICK tonight), I worry also that what my sons will learn from the Dick is that mom is a complete fucking moron and should not be listened to or valued.  I wonder if they will assume that women like to be yelled at and cussed out.  If they will think “conversations” include mean words and loud voices.  If they will assume that the loudest and meanest voice will win. I wonder if they will think all women cry and that part of love means tears being shed on a regular basis and that they only way to combat those silly tears is to ignore them completely.

I know I generally don’t write negatively about the Dick, but to be honest, I’m hoping that this will somehow be cathartic and that the answers will somehow majically just reveal themselves to me.  I know that many have heard me say that the Dick and I love passionately, but argue and fight equally as passionately.  It is true in its truest form.  We both have no ability to admit our faults nor apologize.  We both use past transgressions at will against one another.  There is no forgive and forget here.  We can shrug things off and say “its ok” but that’s not necessarily forgiveness, is it??  And forget??? That IS NOT possible….EVER.  We’re still bashing one another over the head (verbally, NOT for real) with things that we did to one another more than two years ago.  The Dick uses his stellar cop memory to drag up all the wrongs that I’ve done in the last ten years.  I use my super woman super total recall abilities to do the same.  We are both equally armed and dangerous and neither of us fights fairly.

So, small boys learn how to treat women by emulating dad.  This is what started this conversation tonight. The Dick has a habit of dramatic sighing and eye rolling and mumbling like a fucking five year old under his breath when he’s feeling irritated with me.  Tonight, several times, I would say something to Nicklas and he would look me dead in the eyes, roll his own eyes, heave a huge sigh and then mumble under his breath (God knows what) and then……cackle like it was the funniest thing ever.  When I asked him what he’s mumbling, he pulls the “nothing” card.  The same “nothing” card that makes me just want to punch the Dick dead on in his face.  Because that “nothing” says to me one of several things…..1) you are not even worth a response.  2) you are a moron and not smart enough to understand a response.  3) I’ve said something terrible that is not going to be repeated because I will be epically fucked if I say it OUT LOUD.  4) Fuck you..I don’t even give a shit enough to entertain the notion of telling you what I’m mumbling about.

So you can see my dilemma when these mumblings and nothings were coming out of my beloved little boy.  And while, when it comes to Nicklas and Joshua behaving like us, I’m happy to accept SOME of the blame here,  but I will not on this instance.  Because, to be completely and brutally honest, when I have something mean and aggressive to say to the Dick, I NEVER mumble it.   I want to be certain he hears me loud and clear.  There will be not an ounce of mistaking about what I’m thinking.  I’ve even TRIED to mumble when I’m pissed at the Dick, certain I could convince him how irritating it is.  I couldn’t do it.  My angry voice is not happy to be shushed.  So I’m putting this one on the Dick.  And upon mentioning it to him, he said he would “do his best” to not do it in front of Nicklas.  Ding-Ding! …….Round 5,442,891 is ON!!!!

Just when we were in the fervor of THAT battle, I spoke to Nicklas about…fuck…something.  And he again looked me dead in the face and then turned away and ignored me.  Just completely dismissed me like a piece of garbage.  And that is the Dick’s fault too.  If the Dick can’t out-argue you by screaming and yelling and driving home his point relentlessly……he will shut down and tune you out.  Will look you dead in the face, look you up and down as if sizing you up, shake his head and stare off in the other direction.  Its positively infuriating.

Over the last several months, I’ve noticed a shift in our marriage and just kind of feel like its broken.  Maybe not broken beyond repair, but broken for sure.  And neither of us seem to be making any plans to attempt to give a shit enough to fix it.  To be certain, we can fake it pretty good most days.  The conversation remains bitterly civil, but the tension is there, floating just below the surface.  Weeks go by and then suddenly, that tension that has been floating quietly suddenly is bubbling up and searching for an outlet to be released.  And that’s when it gets ugly.  Ugly like, I’m quite often surprised the police haven’t been notified yet.  We throw words and small things at one another.  We push one another away or refuse to let one another leave.   I can promise you that I’ve NEVER found myself afraid of the Dick.  We are both the angry aggressors in this house.  And there, caught in the middle of these crazy twirling storms is the small penis people.

And this is where I feel the most guilt.  This is where I fear the most damages.  This is where I find myself berating myself silently with words far angrier than the Dick and I could ever imagine saying to one another.   I’m angry at both the Dick and I.  We’re the grownups here and we behave like rabid crack heads bound and determined to hurt one another as best we can with the meanest things we can conjur up.  And never once do I think we’ve even considered, in the midst of it all, what impact that this is having on the wee penis people.  Sure, we feel remorseful afterwards….towards our children, not each other.   Our kids don’t see the forgiving and the making up and the hugs and kisses.  Those things don’t happen.  They just hear the silence and, in their small penis person world, they likely hope that this means everything is going to be ok.

In a vain attempt to make my childrens’ lives a bit more peaceful, I’ve considered marriage counseling.  I am convinced that there has got to be a better way to discuss things and discussions aren’t about who can be the loudest to be heard.  I’ve broached the subject with the Dick on more that one occasion.  He’s against it to his very core.  He doesn’t think he needs someone else to tell him how to deal with our marriage.  He’s partly convinced himself that whoever this imaginary person is, they will automatically take my side and leave him paying for the privilege of feeling like a shit head.   He’s sure that if only I would just listen to him and not feel the need to bitch so much, we could be fine (yes, I swear, he actually said this).  And so I’m starting to think its likely hopeless.

We’ve done a very similar dance to this one not that long ago.  We were horrible to one another and set out to hurt one another any way that we could.  I started talking to someone else, someone who spoke kindly to me and actually seemed to care what I said.  I contemplated sleeping with this person and told the Dick so.  I told him to feel free to find someone to cheat on me with and I would do the same.  I asked him for a divorce.  He left.  He went to stay with his sister.  His family staged an intervention on mostly me (since I was apparently the angriest of the two of us), but on him a little too.  My SIL and BIL talked endlessly to each of us trying to make us work it out.   The Dick started to see what he might lose.  He asked to come home.  I, a small part of me realizing that I had him right where I wanted him, refused.  I called him a bad father and questioned his ability to love our kids.  He then started questioning whether Nicklas was his (he knows he is, and always has and knows we were going through fertility shit to get a baby, but it was HIS way to hurt ME).  I told the Dick he was not any better than a babydaddy and that I would call him when I needed child support.  And the familial interventions continued.  And we continued to fight.  I asked him to go to marriage counseling then.  He wouldn’t even consider it.  We could fix it ourselves.  And I believed him and gave us another shot.

And now here we are again.  I’m minus the other penis person that I was talking to (honestly, that was too much to deal with all at once anyway).  I’m also minus a job and a means to support myself and our kids alone.  And I sometimes fear that this might be the only reason I’m sticking around.  I recently told Jeff that if I start looking for employment, be concerned.  Cause it likely means I’m looking to stockpile money for my take off with the kids.  And its really just kinda sad that this is what our marriage is coming down to.  Him, obviously miserable and obviously barely able to contain it.  Me, some days hanging on only because I don’t really have any other option right now for my kids and myself.  And I’m struggling to come to terms with these thoughts….no amount of time away from one another or intervention or even counciling will help.   We’re on the precipace of disaster and we both feel powerless to stop it.

But as a mom… two wonderful little penis people who are watching the whole freak show live and in person……I feel compelled to act.  What action, I’m not quite sure.  But something or someone needs to give.  Because if not…..their future girlfriends and wives will only have me to thank for their outrageous ideas of what love is all about.