How Far Would You Go?

  It’s been 5 years since I became a single mom. 5 years that I have been the sole provider for 4, well now 5 kids. In those five years I have done things that I never thought I would, nor did I think I would have to do, to make sure that my kids were taken care of. Now don’t get me wrong, I haven’t had to work the streets or hold up a gas station or anything like that. However, I have done some things that I am not exactly proud of.

            I know that any mom out there would do anything they had too to protect their young. We all say it on a regular basis. I am positive that there are also a lot of moms out there that have done way worse than I have just to make sure that their young have the bare minimum. I get this. But I started thinking about it the other day, and wondered…..what’s the worse you have done to make sure your kids had the best you could provide?

            I only ask because I am having some severe guilt issues at the moment, and I don’t know if I’m looking for redemption, or just trying to clear my conscience, but either way, I need to get this off my chest. However, I can’t just come out and say it, so I will just have to be stupidly vague.

            I thought I had it all figured out. I had all the kids in school, all of them pretty self sufficient. I had my very over motherly days, and I had my days where I just couldn’t be Susie Homemaker. Sorry kids, it’s either noodles or leftovers for dinner. But overall, we got along pretty well. We had our system. During the week it was chores and homework. I thought I was doing good if all four of them got three baths or showers in the week. I was all kinds of proud of myself for waking up and walking them to the bus stop, and being there again when they got home. Saturday nights were Mommy nights, and depending on the season, I would either go out and drink with Loser Baby Daddy #2, or find a local bar with one of my girlfriends and go a little crazy. My brother was looking for any chance he could get to get away from the parent’s house, so I always had a dependable babysitter.

            This was my life for a long time. I didn’t believe in mixing my personal life with my home life, so my kids didn’t meet anyone I dated for a long time. But then I fell for this one guy. I fell kind of hard, and looking back on it, OMG was I an idiot, but that is either here nor there at the moment. He wasn’t the best looking guy I had dated, but not bad looking either really. He was in a band, something I had never done before. He was one hell of a smooth talker for sure. When I was with him, I felt like the most amazing, most beautiful, smartest, and definitely most wanted woman alive. Oh yeah and fucking aye could this boy kiss, something that is kind of high up there on my list of things I will and will not settle for.  Then there was his family. They were always so welcoming, so friendly, and so freakin fun!! These were my people! I finally felt like I fit somewhere! They were immature, and dumb when it was the right time to be that way, and yet seemed to always have their shit together. I needed to be here, be with them at this time. I still have a hard time explaining it, but it felt right…..finally.

            After about six months, I figured this guy was gonna stick around for awhile, so I let him meet my kids. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that he had no issues with the fact that I had four kids. I honestly thought there was nobody on the planet that would be okay with that. But here he was, and he adored me. However, things were not exactly all rainbows and butterfly’s upon the big meeting. He of course told me how wonderful they all were, and how beautiful, blah blah blah. But E.T. was anything but happy about meeting someone that I was interested in. I think in the beginning it was simply the nail in the coffin of her parents  getting back together, but later turned into good ole’ women’s intuition. She never liked him, and never had any issues voicing that, which I just blew off as her way of rebelling against her parent’s separation. Yeah, I need to learn to listen to her better.

            Okay, so this is turning into another one of my novels. Let’s fast forward a couple of years. So I would say 99% of the time I spent with this guy, I was drinking with him. Yeah, that’s a lot. But it’s what we did. Then, wooops! I wound up pregnant. Again. Because I didn’t have enough on my plate, I seriously needed to add another mouth to feed. But it’s cool right! Here I am bringing a baby into a family that is flipping awesome! So regardless of how things turn out with this relationship, I am a permanent fixture in these amazing people’s lives. Hahaha. Wow, I didn’t realize how much liquor really did alter your perception. The next nine months were nine of the most eye opening, and trying months of my life.

            Ok so you have to realize I have never really spent any real time with this guy sober. I honestly did not know who he was at ALL! Nor did I really know his family. But I got to know them, oh buddy did I get to know them all. Long story, well kind of shorter, I didn’t really like him that much after all was said and done. The family, well I still loved them all, but definitely saw them in a different light.

            I stayed with this guy until the baby was born, however, found out a lot of rather disturbing facts. He did NOT like my kids, and made this oh so rather apparent when he talked about his own son growing up with them. Not to mention finding out that I was NOT the only girl that was feeling like the most amazing girl alive when in his presence. Not only was he with me, but two other on a regular basis since way before we got together, and then numerous random hook-ups, on a regular basis, and yes I mean like every other second that either he wasn’t working, or I wasn’t at his house. I felt like the biggest fucking moron on the planet.

            It all came to head when he found out that my ex-husband had been by my house to see the kids. He was so upset, and so paranoid that the ex might somehow hurt his son, that he flat out told me if he ever felt even the slightest threat towards his son, he wouldn’t hesitate to take out one of my ex’s kids. He literally threatened to kill one of my other kids. I was in a relationship with someone, not only that, but had a child with a man, who had no qualms threatening to kill one of my children. That was the last night I was in a serious relationship.

            All of this leads up to what I was talking about in the beginning. How far would you go to make sure that your kids are safe? How far would you go to make sure that nothing in this bullshit, materialistic, violent world, will harm your babies?  Because I am in a situation that I can’t stand to think about, a situation that I can’t in a million years imagine that I would have put myself in, because I refuse to EVER be in one that could possibly put my kids in the kind of threatening environment I unknowingly, selfishly, and blindly, put them in already.