So I guess I'll be the better person...blah

A few weeks ago I was reading Mr. Lady's post about her dad. Everything I read made me think of the relationship that I have had with my sperm donor. Blah, blah don't be so harsh, you're thinking? Bull shit. Listen, I know I wasn't the perfect child, but he sure as hell didn't stick around to find out that I made my mother's life a living hell perfect.

Let's take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Good, I need a good road trip.

Dad moved to Thailand when I was about 12. Parents had already been divorced 10+ years and he married the wicked witch of Ohio. Dad was contracted over there so would only be there for 4-5 years. He came back, joy. When he came back, he went to Chicago, got an apartment until they could find a house. Four months he lived in that apartment. Then the day came that I found out I was pregnant. I called him. Do do do <~that would be that wonderful tone you hear when a number has been disconnected. Yeah, that one. He moved, changed number and didn't bother to tell his only daughter.

So moving on. I found him through yellow pages, calling the office and playing phone tag. Told him the wonderful news that he was going to be a grandparent. I know, not something that a 40 y/o wants to hear but hey, mom and step dad were dealing with it just fine. The words that came out of that man's mouth will stick in my head forever. "How am I going to tell my friends that my 17 y/o daughter is pregnant?" Father of the Year right there folks. Remind me to get the plaque done.

Let's not get a speeding ticket down this road and fast forward to '05. Wedding bells were in the air, we were trying to accommodate everyone, school schedules, vacations, etc. January, I call my dad to tell him that Ben and I were getting married and we had finally picked a date. When? March 5, we're going to do it on the boat blah blah blah. Then the words that were said were the last ones my dad said to me. "Sorry we can't come. We're going to Palm Springs the week before and can't take that much time off." Yep Dad, great. Nice to know. Bastard.

Here I was addressing Christmas cards and decided to pull up good ole' Dad. Sure enough, found the address. I sat, thinking, should I do it? Mind you he doesn't know about the toddler. Has no clue that he exists. Probably isn't even in his mind that his oldest grandson better will graduate in June.

So I did it. Christmas card went out in the mail with all the pictures on it. The family picture for this year. One of the boys, one of me and the toddler and one of the teen.

So now I sit on pins and needles. I think. Waiting. This outta be good.