A tiny rant about ex and remorse for my bad parenting.

I can't tell you how many times I was warned by therapists and lawyers and friends not to ever say anything disparaging about ex in front of my children because it would backfire on me and the children would immediately defend and cling to ex. I believed/I believe all of them. I know this. And yet, I still do it. I think I'm being sneaky about it, but Mario sees right through it and--text-book true--defends his dad as if he's parent of the year or saint.

(Here's an example. Mario and I are driving to meet a friend to help her with Photoshop.
Me: I'm so busy. I have to finish an assignment after we get home.
Boy: Why don't you write during the day?
Me: I was in meetings all day.
Boy: You should be writing. When dad's at work, he gets stuff done. He works really hard. (Or something like this.)
Me: Yeah, well he didn't have to do anything else, did he? I actually had a problem with how much he worked. (I wanted to say it destroyed our marriage, it was his drug and escape, he had no boundaries. Kudos to me for not saying this.)
Boy: He goes in early.
Me: You think 9 is early?....and on and on.)

I don't know what's wrong with me--lack of emotional maturity or self discipline? A black, ugly soul? Do I want my boys to dislike their dad? Do I want to be the favorite? Is this even a competition? No. No. No.

I am still angry at the fucker for not loving me anymore and leaving me and spending only eight days a month with his kids, which is so little time as to be the perfect parent since you'd have 22 other days to be tired, cranky, depressed or angry. I also fucking hate him that he's going to be in fucking Oregon with his fucking girlfriend at the fucking Shakespeare festival for his son's birthday. He missed the other son's birthday last year because he was in fucking Italy with the fucking girlfriend. I don't think he's a particularly selfish person, he just looks that way on virtual paper.

Back to work. Take note, Mario; I'm writing.