Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Speaking of why do you not shut up...

I look at Brie’s family, and I am insanely jealous. Her dad and her brother have this awesome bond. They go on fishing trips, go camping, and hang out. The kids grandparents have us over about every other week or so for dinner and games, and they love to watch the children for us whenever we need it. Brie’s mom loves to have us up, loves to keep in contact with her children, encourage them, help them achieve their goals and relishes her role as grandmother. Her husband is always hiking, biking, and exploring with his sons, and often invites the kids to come along. Holidays with Brie’s family are extraordinary. There is so much love it hurts.
I wish my family was like that. The family on my side does not play well together. There is always drama, always someone butthurt about something. They are perpetually stuck in the "victim" mentality. It’s something of a paradox with them, really. I am an outcast with my parents because I don’t follow their religious beliefs (in fact, I intentionally had myself forcibly evicted or “disfellowshipped” from the religion so I wouldn’t have to deal with their shit) and because I don’t assume the accepted role of breadwinner and king of my own domicile, but they come to me to solve their problems or whine about their drama. I get fucking sick of it. I have actually moved 3 different times to get away from them, but they keep goddamn motherfucking son of a bitch following me. So far, they haven’t come to P-town. Knock on wood. Throw salt over my shoulder. Pray to Bob. (My Bob is different than your B.O.B. My Bob controls the weather) Pray to the gods I DON’T believe in. Sacrifice a goat. Sacrifice a virgin. Whatever it takes, man. Just keep them away.
So, instead of family, I try to make friends. I have found that I can be a bit of an outsider because of my outspoken nature, but I’m usually able to counter that with my charisma and the fact that I adhere to a simple rule - “If you’re going to tell people the truth, make them laugh. Otherwise, they’ll kill you.” Some guy said that, and it’s the truth. My wife has often marveled at how much shit I can say to someone and they’ll stand there and crack up because I’m saying it with a smile or laughing myself. 
I am an outgoing, boisterous, generally happy man, so that would normally endear me to quite a few.
But I am also an at-home dad. From my observation of others in this unique circle, I don't quite fit the part. I’m too large, robust, worldly, and outspoken. A large portion of the at-home dads I’ve met here are short, scrawny fuckers and whiny as shit. All they want to do is bitch about how they feel emasculated, or how their wife or partner doesn’t appreciate and thank them for the sacrifices they make, there’s no glory in what they do, their work is never finished…blah blah blah. Beer night with them is a fucking crybaby I-wish-she-would-listen-to-me-like-you-guys-do-we're-here-for-you-brother-she-says-my-dicks-to-small-we-didn't-need-to-know-that-mine-too fest. Guess what, motherfuckers? The plight of ALL at-home parents are these internal/external struggles. And I can understand venting about it when it comes to a point, but EVERY FUCKING TIME WE MEET?! GAHHH!!! Talk about something else. Fuck, man.
The mom’s group I am a part of is actually quite a bit more to my liking. First off, I have always gotten along with women. B: the women are, for the most part, much more level headed than the dad’s group. Sure they have their cliques, but what group doesn’t? The only problem I have with this group is that they’re clear on the other side of the goddamn river, and it’s a fuckin’ pain in the ass to commute there and back with 3 kids. (Lookit me bein’ whiny. God, this whole post is a bit of a whine fest, isn’t it. Oh well - don’t expect much more of that from now on) Anyway, I am just not getting the social interaction I crave.
And I AM a social person. I need to communicate. So guess who is the recipient of my expenditure of pent up emotion in the form of affection (Ambush snogging and attempts to roughhouse or engage in foreplay), constant contact (read ass-grabbing), and endless babble as I relate to her even the most miniscule detail of my day, told in such a way as to make it exciting and extraordinary, when the reality of it all is, it's boring as shit. That’s right - dear ol’ wifey poo. All she wanted to do was come home to a nice, quiet, clean house, dinner ready, go for a walk, play with the kids, and then watch Firefly or Torchwood until we go to sleep, secure in knowing that I will always be there beside her. She gets most of that, all except the quiet bit. She is bombarded by a constant stream of chatter, and, eventually, she just has to tune it out. So, then, of course, I get offended because she isn't listening. Now I'm grumpy, she's upset, the kids are screaming, and it just goes downhill from there.
I just need an outlet. And I’ve found an online group that is perfect for that. You should check them out. MWDAS. DON’T tell ‘em I sent you, though, or you’ll never get in.

1 comment:

  1. I laughed at the "king of my own domicile" part, because I totally think you ARE. I mean, you have a queen too, but you are totally in charge, but in a good way. I'm sorry your family sucks. At least you can rest assured that your kids have totally awesome parents.