Free I'm Not Julia Roberts by Laura Ruby

done on his next birthday, and I had to be the one to disappoint him. You need to discuss these issues with me before making any promises.
    I’m not trying to be difficult, I just want you to put yourself in my shoes—I don’t know you, yet I have to trust you with my children. Your respecting my position as their mother would go a long way in building that trust.
    I hope we have an understanding.
    Sincerely,
    Beatrix Reynolds
    P.S. The pants you bought Devin were totally inappropriate for school, and I returned them. Enclosed you’ll find a check for the purchase price.
    Posted on SecondWivesSpeakeasy.com, March 19, 2000:
    Hi, all. I’m new here—not a second wife yet but will be next year!—and have been reading a lot of the postings with great interest. I have a question for all you longtime second wives: When did you stop being afraid of the first wife? My significant other’s ex looks like the Michelin Man, if the Michelin Man was packing.
    Also, when do you stop wondering why the first wife left your SO (well, aside from the fact that she must have brain damage)? Ms. Michelin’s second husband stands around grinning all the time, like a chimp with gas. What’s that about?
    LaVidaLoco
    December 14, 1999
To: [email protected]
Fr: [email protected]
    You won’t believe this crap. Or maybe you will.
    It’s my year to have the boys for Christmas Eve, so we planned on taking her to my parents’ for dinner and then Lu’s parents for dessert and coffee and a couple of gifts. (On Christmas morning, we have the boys till ten.) But when I tried to confirm the plans with Beatrix she pulls her Mrs. Hyde routine. She demands the boys for dinner on Christmas Eve and then wants to have them back on Christmas Day at 8:30 am so that they can all drive to Alan’s parents downstate. I said no way, it’s my day and the plans are set. So of course the psychobitch gets to work on the kids, especially Britt, telling him how hurt her mom and dad will be if they don’t see their grandsons on Christmas Eve, how bad Alan’s parents will feel, how the world will explode and baby animals will die and Humpty-Dumpty will never be put back together again. Poor Britt then begs me to change the plans because his mom will be angry. I called the bitch up and screamed at her to keep our boys out of it, and all she would say was: “This is what the boys want to do. Ask them.”
    I hate that woman. I cannot imagine why I ever married her. Tell me, why did I marry her?
    Ward
    Posted on SPLITSVILLE.com, September 25, 1999:
    So I knew this would happen, but I’m still not happy about it. The bimbo finally moved in. They haven’t even known each other that long, they’re not even engaged yet, but they move in together. I just think it’s so irresponsible, but when I said that to my mom, she said, “Well, YOU moved in with Alan.” Come on! It’s so different! I’ve known Alan for years! We were engaged! I didn’t pick up some bimbo off the street!
    And you know what really bugs me? I’m knocking myself out, working full-time and then driving this kid to soccer practice, that kid to the dentist, and taking it and taking it from my oldest, who’s decided to become a mouthy teenager all at once, and my ex and his bimbo are waltzing around without a care in the world, with no responsibility for any of it. HE’s the one who fought for the joint custody! So why isn’t HE taking the kids to the dentist? Why is HE allowed all these weekend getaways?
    I saw the bimbo at my son’s soccer game, cheering like SHE was the mother or something, and she didn’t even say anything to me. Not one thing. And neither did my ex. Is it stupid of me to want a little acknowledgment? A little respect? These are MY children that she’ll be spending time with. You’d think they’d understand how important it is to discuss how much this stranger will be involved in my children’s life. The ground rules. There ought to be ground rules, don’t