Mine?
HomeWrecker apparently believed that sleeping with my husband gave her the right to call my children ‘hers’. Aside from this causing me to see shades of red that aren’t even on the color spectrum, I simply had to sit down to try to understand more about the audacity that it takes to do this. After examining some things, I decided to give her super adorbs and horrifically misguided notion a name. I call it ‘Parentage by Hostile Takeover’.
What exactly IS a hostile takeover, you ask?
Let’s say that my little family of four was a company. HomeWrecker wanted it, so she decided it should be broken up, split into pieces, and sold off for spare parts. Well, according to me – one of the owners – IT’S NOT FOR SALE. This is my life’s work. 14 years of blood, sweat, and tears have been invested.
This matters not in a hostile takeover.
Hostile takeovers always begin and end by circumventing the normative rules of fair play and empathy. What you want is irrelevant, Wife. It’s just business.
And as the CEO, my husband had the ultimate golden parachute; an iron-clad contract promising that in the event of a takeover, he’d have emotional support, retain his good name, be given a home to move right in to while frequently enjoying sexual escapades and what is likely an infinite variety of frito-based casseroles delivered piping-hot to his gaping maw.
His indifference about the other owner and two tiny employees, fueled by his raging and well-hidden narcissism, meant that the takeover would be only mildly unpleasant for him. A speed-bump, at best. His bags were already packed, and within 20 hours of my discovery of the affair, he’d simply jumped out of the plane and pulled the chord, leaving me and the kids in total free-fall with nothing but anvils cleverly disguised in our parachute packs.
She didn’t want or need to know the details of Honey’s exit strategy. All that mattered was that reading ‘Divide, Conquer, Destroy: A How-To Guide!’ had paid off for her in spades.
But she wasn’t finished. She wanted to go after the employees. Newly formed companies are fragile things, and you need to present an image of success and unity immediately. But united fronts don’t work very well if you can’t get the help to jump ship for the new management. So, unable to obtain approval from children who can’t speak for themselves (and who live on the other side of the country), she decided to simply hijack their consent and claim that they’re happily working for her now.
At the time this was created, Honey and HomeWrecker were unmarried and had been together for a little over a year. But that’s their family, y’all! Creating a collage titled ‘Our Family’ featuring my kids and putting it on social media is just another way of saying ‘This is happening whether you like it or not, so get used to it.’
Excuse me, won’t you? I need to take a golf club and smash up a massive display of glass frames in Hobby Lobby before I can proceed. Be back in a jiff.
Ok. I’m better now.
Alright. Let’s take a good look at that family. Little Man and Baby Girl have never met the two other kids, or the baby that has subsequently been born. They’ve met the HomeWrecker that encouraged their dad to move away from them once. And Honey? He’s now $18K (and climbing) behind in child support, and has seen his kids for a grand total of 4 days since he walked out on them over 2 years ago.
HW’s mom comments ‘Very nice family there.’ Oh, yes. Totally. Don’t they always say ‘The family that has nothing to do with each other stays together!”…or wait…how’s that go again?
What a crock of rage-inducing nonsense. This person is out of her ever-lovin’ mind. Yet, there’s always someone making a comment about how lovely their ‘family’ is. Normalizing. Re-framing. Sweeping the hideous truth under the rug and playing along with Honey and HomeWrecker’s delusional script.
HomeWrecker comments ‘One lucky gal !!!!’. Yep, she’s one lucky gal, by golly! But I wouldn’t really describe it as ‘luck’, HomeWrecker. I much prefer the term ‘premeditation’.
And when their baby is born, she’s feeling some warm fuzzies and wants to tell the world that she is “BLESSED/love my kids 1, 2 and 3 and always Little Man and Baby Girl.” Ummmm….your kids? Did you just say ‘your kids’ and then list Little Man and Baby Girl?
Ah, I guess we have our answer. That she was not even married to Honey when she joined the second group down is irrelevant. She’s in charge. Get over it. Did she mention she’s in charge?
Ah, and here we are with the pronouncement of family again. If a family is relegated to nothing more than some names on a Christmas ornament, is it real? Have you ever wiped away Little Man’s tears over the loss of his daddy? Have you ever stayed up all night with Baby Girl when she’s been sick? Have you ever, even once, acted in the capacity of a parent to either? No. In fact, is it not true that you have profoundly HARMED them by your actions and choices? Then how is it that you could ever have the balls to co-opt the sacred title of ‘parent’ and attempt to apply it to yourself? 
And then, we have the cherry on top. For those of us who didn’t fawn over the first several memos about the awesome new boss lady in town, fret not. She’s going to make it very, very clear to all of us pee-on’s who just aren’t getting the message.
Hit ‘Share’ if you have an amazing son. She writes ‘Yep…..3. Jake, Luke, Little Man.’ (names changed to protect the kids)
The comment about my children being ‘her family’ was one thing, but there’s something so profoundly personal and intrusive about this one. It made me recoil on a guttural, maternal level that apparently lays dormant within my chromosomes until moments like this.
She called my child her son. HER SON.
To that, I say:
Sorry. Had to.
How is it that a person can simply announce parental rights to which they are not entitled? Not only that, who exactly is the intended audience for these numerous pronouncements on Facebook? The answer to that is two-fold. Entitlement, and image-control. She does not care about my children. I know this because of her actions. She does not care about causing harm to me, she delights in it. She does not want to make any of these posts private, because I AM her target audience.
Hmm. I think this could be directed at me, but for all I know she was step-mommy to some other kids that are no longer on the scene because she ‘found her bliss’ with some affair partner and wrecked those homes, too.
If it is for me, I guess that would mean I’m being told that she is ‘accepting’ my kids and that I’m treating her like crap for loving them. Well, I guess that’s sorta true, HomeWrecker. I don’t want you loving my kids, because your idea of loving them has included some pretty selfish demonstrations of the word thus far.
She is also very clear that she would ‘die for’ and ‘do anything for’ her kids in other posts. And as she’s made painfully clear, she believes my kids are her kids.
Ergo, she’d ‘do anything’ for Little Man and Baby Girl…except for refraining from incessantly interfering in their father’s marriage, encouraging him to move 2,300 miles away from them, faking a pregnancy to get him to do just that, and then ‘accidentally’ getting pregnant for real in order to anchor him there which, consequentially, equals taking him out of their lives as a co-parent for good. You know. ‘Cept for that.
But she’ll totally set up the futon in the living room and make you a really nice fritter pie if you ever come to visit! Sickening.
Without my disdain, would she feel relevant anymore? Would this game she’s playing with me have to end? Where would the fun be in that?
Then again, it IS possible that we’re not dealing with the level of sophistication that I’m attributing to her here. Perhaps, it’s much simpler than any of that.
(Sigh) No, HomeWrecker. That’s a pyramid. PEER – UH – MID. It doesn’t belong to you. In fact, there’s a funny story about a British explorer who once tried to claim-
(exasperated) NO, HomeWrecker. NOT yours. That’s gold from inside the repository at Fort Knox. Come to think of it, how’d you get in th-
Please stop interrupting me. And no, you can’t have that either. It’s the last one.
That’s the friggin’ sun, for God’s sake. What is the matter with you? You can’t just –
Nope. Not enough nope in the world.
NOT YOURS, HOMEWRECKER.
Categories: Uncategorized
Honey and the Homewrecker. 
a friend of mine’s husband had an affair they got divorced in like less than three months and the week after their divorce was final the HW posted their wedding pics on fb and even some posing with the kids and I was like seriously you have no sensitivity or class I can’t even imagine how those kids felt posing for pics less than three months after their parents split up fucking weirdos for sure with zero caring about those kids feelings who does that?Z??!! cheaters that’s who
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I was divorced by tsunami 7 years ago. I didn’t think there was light at the end of the tunnel, but there was. You are a great writer and obviously a wonderful mother. My advice from my experience would be delete your face book page. HW won’t have nearly as much without an audience. Also, use the full extent of the law to collect your child support. Many states will withhold it their paycheck.
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Thank you for the kind words, SS! Court case is in progress as we speak. Already appeared once in March. I have to appear again at the continuance in May. Uggg. Things you thought you’d never be doing on a Thursday: paying $20 to park 6 blocks from the courthouse downtown, walking those six blocks crying while holding a folder containing proof of your financial evisceration by the man you once trusted, and waiting 4 hours for your case to be heard in front of a judge with Honey’s excuses and selective victimization narrative filling the courtroom as he joined in on speakerphone (while I never got to utter even one word). Did NOT see things like this in life coming.
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Thanks for sharing, 2bshameless. That’s horrifying on so many levels. Trauma on top of trauma for those kids, I am sure. I read a comment on a blog that I love dearly (Chump Lady, what else?) about a situation very similar to what you just described. I’ll never forget the verbiage used, because to this day I’ve never found a better description of the intrusive and inappropriate crap like this that cheaters do to kids. She said that cheaters ‘co-opt children’s trusting nature and use their naivete to their advantage to make this all seem normal.’ It’s image management. It’s sickening, and I’m so sorry for your friend and those kids! I hope they are well on their way to a better life without him.
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<<<<…as the CEO, my husband had the ultimate golden parachute; an iron-clad contract promising that in the event of a takeover, he’d have emotional support, retain his good name, be given a home to move right in to, enjoy frequent sexual escapades and what is likely an infinite variety of frito-based casseroles delivered piping-hot to his gaping maw.<<<< I about died when you talked about the infinite variety of frito-based casseroles. One of our dinner favorites is a chicken casserole with Doritos in it. The blogger who posted the recipe said it's original name was "White Trash Comfort Food" or something similar (I know it had white trash in it) but she simply called it Mexican Chicken Casserole. I will now and forever more call it "The Home Wrecker Special" in honor of this post.
I loved the seagulls, too. Mine. Mine. No, Home Wrecker, that's a pyramid. Mine. Mine. Isn't that what they all say?
I'm hoping those days are behind you but if not I'll tell you this story. My step-sister's son is 7 years older than my daughter. I think this event occurred when Rock Star was around 18 months; maybe she was all of 2, which meant my nephew was 8 or 9. After the party my step-sister remarked to my sister-in-law how Rock Star never sat down while eating and she was soooo out of control. My sister-in-law felt bad for me and asked me if I was ok. I remember laughing and telling her, "She's still wiping her son's ass whenever he's done pooping. I don't think she has a lot of room to criticize me and my toddler."
They're just words, Wife. We're back to that whole your ass doesn't equal a vase thing. STBX recently called me a classless bitch. I laughed about it and am busy making fun of him. I'm not the one having sex with my cousin. That would be him. I also don't have an arrest record and I'm not cheating on my married lover. That would be her. So really, who's got no class?
Your kids will never be hers. They wouldn't even recognize her. Let her keep running her mouth. She ends up looking like an idiot. If she is still doing this kind of crap she's doing it to get a reaction out of you. Your best course of action is to not play. Drop the rope. She's already the loser.
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Thanks, spaghettisam! It’s definitely a balancing act, making the topic of my blog be something I probably should be avidly avoiding. It does pain me to write about these things, but I’ve discovered it pains me way more not to. In processing it all in the way that I have, I’ve come to learn so many things. Chiefly, HomeWrecker is a train-wreck. I don’t write what I write about her just to look down from some imagined position of ‘superiority’. I write about her because as I examine and process what she’s done, it helps me to codify what my standards and absolutes are in life, as I’m sure it does for some readers. Turns out, she’s an AWESOME cautionary tale. Thanks, H Dubs! May you continue to suck as an example for the rest of us!
And, the day WILL come when I have no interest in her story whatsoever. I hope that is true about Honey, too. That one is much harder though, because he did such an epic job of presenting himself as someone he wasn’t that I still find I have to remind myself not to mourn him or romanticize a figment of my imagination. Ahhh, the mind-effery! It’s the gift that keeps on giving.
Frito Pie Casserole Recipe (for HomeWrecker):
FRITO PIE CASSEROLE 1 bag Frito’s 1 can Ro-Tel 1/2 lb. Velveeta cheese 1 med. onion, chopped 1 tsp. salt 1 lb. ground beef Brown beef, onion and salt. Then layer meat, Frito’s, Ro-Tel and cheese in baking dish. Bake 30 minutes at 350 degrees or until cheese melts through mixture. Present piping-hot to lazy husband with a smile. Go check his phone for adulterous texts and emails while he shovels it in between turns on Call of Duty. Contact divorce lawyer accordingly.
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You’ve got this. I know it’s a balancing act and I hope you know I’m not criticizing you. I think you’re remarkable. H-Dubs is a train wreck and a cautionary tale. She’s a horrible, immoral person and I hope the karma bus runs right over her while she’s swinging around on her stripper pole. 🙂 I’m also sure it’s doubly hard with young children because they are so willing to love just about anyone. I would be seeing red if I thought Harley was going to be anywhere near my kids, even now.
Here is my newly christened Home Wrecker Special (formerly called the bland Mexican Dorito Casserole): Ingredients
2 cups shredded, cooked chicken
1 cup shredded cheese (or more if you’d prefer)
1 can cream of chicken soup
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup sour cream
1 can Ro-tel tomatoes
1/2 packet taco seasonings (I always use the full package)
bag of regular nacho cheese Doritos.
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350
Combine all ingredients except Doritos together and mix thoroughly
In a greased 2 qt. baking dish put a layer of crushed Doritos (about 2 cups), then a layer of the chicken mixture. Repeat once more, ending with the chicken mixture.
Top with more shredded cheese and bake for 30-35 minutes, or until bubbling hot.
DO NOT present to lazy husbands or their Home Wreckers. Instead, serve yourself and your children and enjoy because this shit is delicious!
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HW is a disaster, and your xH got sucked in (probably literally, I’m so sorry. Happened to my family, too….)
This is gonna blow up, hard. They both are lacking maturity of any sort, and are full of shit.
You’re a fantastic writer. I’m engrossed. I need to get some sleep but I can’t stop reading!
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Your kids will eventually grow to HATE this woman – they’ll see through her and because of her actions they’ll hate their father too – it’s incredibly monstorous what she’s doing – come on karma!
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