Round #3 of taxes with my poor mother. Despite what I would classify as a lack of parenting skills while raising me, my mom can do some taxes. I was all ready to mail my taxes off last week, along with a check that I was trying to figure out how not to bounce, because really, how efficient can the guv be with checks coming in the mail? Will it be deposited the next day or next week? Of course, that's the mystery in paying for anything with a check. I've discovered that with my debit card, there's a function similar to a check payment (which means it won't come out instantaneously), and that is called credit. If I want the money to come out right away, I will use it as a debit card. If I want the money to come out in a few days, maybe four or five days, depending on the store, I will use my card as a credit card. This is all new to me because I never had a debit card when I was married - I used the checkbook of that ill-fated joint checking account. So anyway, taxes. After accidentally stumbling upon a finance article whilst Yahooing this week (hell, yes, I Yahoo), I worked up the numbers in my head of the Making It Work deduction and realized that I just might not have to pay the feds after all. Back to mom's house to actually work it up on paper again this weekend, since I don't have a printer anymore. I am pleased to report that I will now receive a refund from the feds in the exact amount of $15.18. You have probably never seen someone get so ecstatic over fifteen freaking dollars. But whatever, because I don't have to pay with money I don't have. Thank you, Yahoo, for having that article on your finance page flash before my eyes on Tuesday morning. I don't think I can thank you enough.
The end-of-season basketball and cheerleading banquet was this weekend. The Ex sent the kids with his girlfriend since he apparently had to do a karate test or something. There was a movie that I can't remember the name of and one of the main characters always pronounced karate funny, and that's what I always think of when he mentions he's going to test for a belt or something. What I want to tell him is that I could care less about the karate or taekwondo thing, and it doesn't impress me. What would impress me would be if he were to actually show up at a parent-teacher conference or do the potato project (that I will discuss later). So The Girlfriend shows up 25 minutes late with the daughters and being that she doesn't have children, she looks totally mortified at the craziness of this banquet. I was polite, invited her to get something to eat and drink and found her a place to sit. She explained that she was late bringing the girls because she didn't know it would take so much time to round them up from playing and get them ready, although it was obvious to me a hairbrush had not touched their hair in the "getting ready" process. I felt badly for her because it took me about three years to figure out if I want to be somewhere on time with the children I need to start about two hours in advance. I think she's been thrusted into the weekend stepmother role and she doesn't quite know the ropes yet, kind of like taking a kid in middle school and dropping them into a PhD program. I try to remember that it's not her fault she's been lulled by The Ex's bullshit. I was there, too, once. I can empathize. At some point The Ex showed up and I noticed that he's gained some weight, and I felt an immense gratitude that I will never feel his hairy belly rubbing on me again. I didn't have a chance to pull my older daughter aside to talk to her about Friday night, but I asked her tonight what the deal was. She was upset that my younger daughter clocked her in the forehead.
A potato project was sent home in my older daughter's book bag on Wednesday night, and it basically says that the students have to decorate a potato "friend" and then come up with ten descriptive words that they will use later in the week for a writing assignment. Well, this was her weekend with The Ex, so I gave him the project assignment when he dropped the children off on Thursday night. This was for several reasons: I wouldn't have the children this weekend to do the potato project and we won't have time on Monday or Tuesday nights before it's due on Wednesday; The Ex is always saying he wants to be involved in projects and school work (which I know is complete bullshit because he doesn't even open the book bags on the weekends he has the children); and I wanted to see if he could actually rise to the challenge and get the project done. So he knew about the project in advance, had the assignment sheet and would have the children this weekend.
He texted about five minutes before the children were due to be home this evening and said that they didn't have a chance to do the potato project. Can anyone define pissed? That was me upon receiving that text. The older daughter comes bounding up the front porch steps with the potato in a plastic sandwich bag. He explains they didn't have time to get it done because the older daughter needed to learn the words to our national anthem, which was the other assignment I sent home with him on Thursday night. I waited until both the girls were in the house, and basically implied that he's worthless and don't worry, this is yet another thing I will take care of. He didn't even bring the assignment sheet back, so I insisted he go home and get it and bring it back, because I will take care of making sure the project is done. Did I mention that I told him that I would take care of this?
What remained unspoken were all of the other areas he has failed in, too. No need to beat the man to death. With one little brown spud, he's proven yet again that he really doesn't give a flying fuck. So the potato decoration has started, and we'll get it finished in time to be turned in on Wednesday, and I will also get the children's hair cut for picture day on Thursday, since I had asked him to do that, too.
To review, here's what I asked him to do for HIS children this weekend:
* Get their hair cut for picture day on Thursday. NOT accomplished.
* Take them to the cheerleading banquet. BARELY accomplished and wouldn't have been if it weren't for The Girlfriend. He gave me the option of picking them up and taking them to the banquet, but goddamn, it was his weekend and I already had to be there early to help set up for the pie sale. How about you step up, motherfucker?
* Give me a co-pay check for the older daughter's psychologist appointment on Tuesday morning. NOT accomplished.
* Learn the words to the national anthem. We'll review this in the morning on the way to before and after school care to see if she learned the words or not.
* Potato project. NOT accomplished.
* I had also hoped he would feed the girls dinner before bringing them home tonight. Not a requirement, but just kind of, feed your children, dickface, because that's responsible thing to do. NOT accomplished for the younger daughter because she was too busy playing Wii. That's okay, Mommy handled that, too.
And so we will start another week tomorrow. A week where NOT accomplished is NOT an option, at least for me.
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