Yesterday my babydaddy, who wandered into his son's life at age 4, just long enough to get his attention then disappear after the boy found him passed out on the front steps, emailed me to again ask for an address to send a gift for his 6th birthday next week.
It was similar to the request for an address in December to send the Christmas gift he didn't end up sending. Yet again I told him our address and that the child still wants to skype with him. Same request I've passed on for over a year. Same request he keeps ignoring. I swear I want to see his face over the computer far less than he wants to see ours, but I keep asking anyway, for my child, because I won't tell him anything bad about his father.
I tell him he has a great memory like his father; he is pretty like his father; an inventor like his father. I tell him the good things they have in common and things he can be proud of.
But it makes me sick every time I hear from the man. And scared. Always scared he will try to get involved again and bring the child into his dangerous life of alcoholism.
Then in the afternoon, this hot, sweet, sexy, kind, former lover (who I've been working hard to quit hitting on) messages me... while I'm still trying to figure out what the message means he sends another message, that message was meant for someone else.
Oh. Well. Sigh.
Then I go to donate blood and am sent away because my iron is too low, possibly because I donated exactly the limit of 56 days ago.
Not all blog posts are created equal; but not all days are either.