I Am a Bad Mom: Chapter 5: The (second) Breakup

March 10, 2018




Hi! Don't be mad at me.  I know I have taken a longer hiatus on my series and I can explain!  You see the last chapter, Wedded Bliss brought out a lot of emotions.  It was an intense experience to remember and commit to in black and white.  A lot of good stuff was happening too!  Last month we went on our winter getaway to Iceland.  I am in love with Iceland!  Speaking of Iceland, Ive got a ton of writing and editing to do on what we saw and what we did, did I mention we vlogged the trip?  But I digress, when I last left you I had just gotten married and first up on our wedded bliss checklist was, where do we live?

Ok, at this point my son and I were living between two apartments, my parents and my now husband's bachelor pad complete with a roommate.  I don't know why but I imagined things would go a little differently, shall we take a trip through my delusional 20 year old brain?  I imagined as soon as we got married my cheating, lying boyfriend would become a loving, honest husband and we would become a family, a real one.  You know the kind of Friday night TGIF lineup?  Family Matters, Step by Step or Boy Meets World?  Mom and dad and a kid or two where conflict and everything in between was resolved with a heart to heart complete with sappy music, maybe a tear and a warm hug in about twenty minutes (30 if you include commercial breaks) and everything is better? Roll credits and a sneak peek at next week's episode.  Ok I might be aging myself here but as a child of the 90's those were the ideal family units we were fed a healthy diet of.  Now I will say this, I didn't have that sort of wholesome childhood myself so I am not 100% sure why the tv version family was what I thought I should and would achieve.  My husband wouldn't budge on his position, he didn't want to see why it was impossible for us to start our lives as a married couple and parents to our one year old son without a home of our own.  He wanted nothing to change, including the schedule he crafted for himself that had him on the streets all day and most times all night "working".  My son and I lived out of bags because I refused to move into this apartment.  I drew the line at fooling myself straight across that idea.  I knew if I moved in "temporarily" we stood no chance at finding a place of our own, what would be his motivation?  We argued about this a lot those first few weeks.  I wanted so bad to not be wrong about this whole thing.  I couldn't confide in my parents or anyone really about what was going on because I risked accepting failure and all of the "I told you so's" that came with it.  I just couldn't accept this was a mistake, at least not yet.

Then it happened one night after almost three months of unhappy matrimony and this patchwork living arrangement.  As I said before his apartment was located in the Hunts Point section of the Bronx.  I am not sure what the area looks like now but back then it was a heavy industrial area, lots of factories and warehouses not to mention Hookers on the Point at night.  (I add it here for context so you don't assume I was being unreasonable in case you don't know the area I am describing. Please click on the link if you are 21 years or older).  As somewhat of a compromise we would stay together in our old apartment that was now my mother-in laws place.  It was a one-bedroom studio apartment so we would sleep on the sofa bed and our son would sleep in the playpen we would lug around between places.

On a faithful night, approaching our three month wedding anniversary, my husband drops my son and I off in front of my mother-in-laws building and unpacks the car.  He says to me, "I will be back".  I panicked, I knew what that meant, he would be wandering in in the early morning hours after spending the night with some new girl he was talking to.  I pitched a fit right there in front of the building, assured by the public setting and his mother as witness, he would not loose his temper.  My mother-in-law defended me and told her son to cut the crap, park the car and come upstairs for the night.  He was outnumbered but he was not out yet.  He parked the car and came upstairs pissed off.  He needed someone to direct that anger towards.  Tonight, it would be my mother-in-law.  It got physical very quickly, I had never seen that before and I was scared to see him lay his hands on his mother.  My son cried in the chaos and violence.  He left, no longer welcomed to stay at his mother's house and finally able to do what he wanted to do, see his girlfriend.  Mission accomplished.  Something else was put into motion that night that he was unaware of.  You see I dealt with some version of this violence and dysfunction for nearly 6 years.  It was my choice and I chose insanity, unhappiness and instability and called it love and loyalty.   That night when everything calmed down, I sat up on my makeshift bed of the night looking out the window of a dark living room to the light of the moon shining through the blinds.  A snippet of that moonlight was illuminating my baby's cherubic face.  I looked down at my baby, finally peacefully asleep having just witnessed a scene I NEVER would chose for him.  Having been a child who witnessed violence myself, I knew I had to do everything in my power to make a better life for him.  I chose the insanity, unhappiness and instability but he didn't.  He was along for the ride I picked for both of us.  In that moment it was so clear.  It didn't matter that I had made a mistake, I wasn't going to live with that mistake for fear of judgement, he was worth a whole lot more than my fragile ego.  I had to choose him.  I had to choose his happiness.  I had to give him a chance at something better.

In the very early morning, as soon as daylight broke and before anyone woke up, I packed all of our things, called a cab and headed home to face the music.  The 15 minute cab ride to my parents house felt like an eternity.  He had done it again, failed me, failed us or had he?  I mean, sure he is to blame for the lousy person he was but what tied me to him was my fault.  I had a lot of personal work ahead of me and a baby to raise and provide for.  Feelings of self pity wouldn't help me do any of the things that laid ahead so I pushed them out of my mind.  I was through crying and being the perpetual victim, it stopped last night.  I had to harden my resolve and be a strong mother and woman for my baby.  There just was no other choice and I had just taken the first step.  I decided in that cab ride, once and for all we were over.  There was not a thing he could say, or gift he could buy that would change my mind and have me sell out my son's future.  My son and I would be a twosome, partners in growth and learning (he was at a slight disadvantage in this growing cause he was just 1 and I had about 20 years on him, lol).  We would rough it out and figure it out together.  I loved him so much and from that moment on I vowed to give him the best version of myself.  It would be hard but I would fight everyday, knowing most days I would fail, but there would always be the next day to try again.

But first, my parents.

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Check back in next Saturday for the continuation of my series. Subscribe to the blog in order to get notifications when a new post is up.  
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LifestyledbyErica 

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