As We Grow Up, I think We Grow Apart

by mommahasapottymouth

My family, I tell ya, has been through shit. I mean that very tenderly too, because most of the time, if I have the problem, they all have the problem. We are dysfunctional and hardly ever see eye to eye. We will always call bull shit, and be the first to point out a flaw. But, the essence of my family is that deep down, we are not just children and parents, or siblings. We are friends. I consider my momma to be one of my very best friends. I will not lie to y’all. Its taken about 21 (give or take) years to perfect it, and we still argue all the time. But, she is the first person I call when I am losing the battle with my lovely daughter, or when I have gossip that MUST be shared. With that said…

 

I am not going to call this person out, that may just be rude, and I am pretty sure my daddy would not approve of that, (I know your reading this and thinking ” oh lord! please get her to shut up before she tells some deep dark family secret” right daddy? Dont worry. ) But, I will say this. I think that it is so sad that someone who shares no blood relations with me or my children knows my children better than someone who does. I needed that person so many times through out my life, and, unless there was something in it for them, they wouldn’t come to my aid. I think they even told me (and I quote) “You’re fucking stupid Marlene. Why would you have a baby?” Same person said the same thing when I had my son. Didnt even bother to visit me after I had them.

I understand that my house is further away then the rest of my close-knit family. But see, the road that I have to take to come visit you also runs right back to my door step. Amazing how things work huh? I can count the number of times I have seen or spoke to them this year. It’s a pretty low number. Lower than 10.

So if you are reading this, and feel like you are the guilty party, I can assure you, you’re right. If you don’t want us in your life because we don’t fit your life style, well that is ok. But, when your gut starts telling you that maybe you need to make amends with me, please, either save your breath and paper, or make it worth my while. I am done waiting for you to decide to be apart of my children’s life.

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