We all have a breaking point

If you all have been reading long enough, I am sure that you have noticed that my happy (mostly) little family life blog has turned into a long boring story about the step children from Hell. All of that changes today, I hope. I threw my step children out of my house today. Good bye and better yet, good riddance to trash.

I really didn't think that it was possible for someone to stop loving their child. I dismissed the theory out of hand when their mother told me that they had exhausted everything she had to give them, including her love. I figured she was angry and bitter, and it was out of hurt and frustration that she spoke. Now, I think I have a better perspective.

Last night as I stayed up way too late to finish a project that I had been working on, it occurred to me that I ought to make a list of what my youngest step son was needed to do today. The list included directions for dropping off one application and checking another four or five places that he applied to, but, hadn't heard back from.

He dropped off the application, but, he didn't go and check on any of the other applications. I left the house to buy milk and take lunch to the school with instruction for him to hop to it. He didn't bother. He was waiting for me to return from the children's school so that his brother (who was supposed to be waiting to hear back from ??? via telephone, to figure out why he isn't in the Army any longer) could go with him.

I'll admit, it made me angry. I was furious that he hadn't done much of anything he was supposed to do on the job front and that my oldest step son was planning to shirk his responsibility again (he missed a job interview last week) to ride with his brother.

I stated in no uncertain terms that they could go together today, but, that in the future, they will not be attached at the hip because I don't feel that either child makes good decisions when they rely on their sibling for counsel, also because they both have to find a job, and only one of them can drive to work, the other does not have a license nor a method of transportation, therefore he needs to be hoofing it around the neighborhood to find employment.

This started a fight. I don't fight. I just simply said, "if you don't like my rules, get out." So instead they chose to run their mouths. They told me that they weren't leaving because this wasn't my house. I had one demand to use my phone to call his father. The other told me that because they are the oldest children, it is my husband's responsibility to support them before my children. I was told that it is their right to tell me how to spend money, because it doesn't belong to me, because I don't work, so it is my husband's money, and apparently they think they ought to be in charge. I was told that I am too lazy to work to support myself, so I kept popping out kids to make my living. I was called a whore. They informed me that they don't think my children are their father's children. My kids were referred to as bastards repeatedly. I am a bitch, and a cunt, and a compulsive liar. They threatened to call child services on me and say whatever they needed to, so that, "you never see those children you say you love so much again." There was more, so much more. It tires me to think about it even.

The End. I hope, this is the end.