How Did I Let It Get This Bad

“When are you going to believe that [he] is an asshlole.”

Holding back tears, I walked away from the courthouse with nothing. No guarantee that he would pay child support. My children and I were already down to our last few dollars and diapers. The last month’s rent was already due and we needed to find a new place to live at the end of the month. His lawyer had promised he would put  a stop to my ex not giving any support, however that failed to come through.

Once home, I tried to apply for food stamps and public aid only to realize that my ex had taken all the necessary documents. And that’s when I realized that the level of control my soon to be ex-husband had over me and the children.

My ex is a police officer and he is using his good guy image to mentally abuse me and control every aspect of my life. He would always say that it was his money and that I don’t need to see the bills because he pays them. Well, it has come to light after he left that he has not been paying the bills and has ruined my credit. He borrowed money in my name but I have no idea what that money was used for. I had no access to his bank accounts and the tax returns.

I speak to my therapist weekly. I update her on all current and past drama. She classified my ex has a narcissist. Whenever I try to make excuses for him (and I still do), she would just yell, “When are you going to believe [he] is an asshole?!”

It is very hard to move on when you decide to get divorced. Rebuilding my life will be difficult. My ex has ruined me financially and emotionally and it feels like he is allowed to get away with it.



I Don’t Want to Share

I try to keep my emotions under control as I try to go about my daily routine. I don’t want my children and #2’s therapists see me fall apart. But it is hard when I get the text message asking for more parenting time. The text message that warns he will be wanting them for more time and overnight stays. This is when it really starts to hurt.

I have devoted myself to my children for the last 3 years. I solely took care of #3 when she was born. I put in the hours, sweat, and tears to help #2. I stayed in that horrible marriage for the them.

He quit. When he left me, he left them too.

I don’t understand why I have to share these great kids. Yes, he helped make them and paid for them, but his involvement ended there. Standing on the sidelines and getting a tattoo of their names does not equal great parenting. Since leaving he has not given us money for food or diapers. He doesn’t check in to see how they are doing. The night he left, my daughter woke up sick at 2 am. I took her to the doctor the next day. He never asked how she was doing.

I can go on and on with other examples of his neglect. He says he wants 50/50 parenting but he does not even know what that means.

I just don’t understand why I have to give up part of my parenting time because he decided to leave. I don’t want my kids half the time. My divorced friends say I am going to love having alone time. But I honestly don’t think I will.

Ray of Sunshine

Even though these are really bad times,  we can still have good days like today.

We all went to pick up #1 from camp and this was the conversation:

Me: What is in your hair?

#1: Pie.

Me: Oh, pie, because that makes sense.

#1: Yeah, it’s Pie Day.

Me: I just thought maybe you got food in your hair.

#1: Pie is a food.

A few moments later we were in the checkout line, #2 was looking up and around. The cashier started to look for something, too. I had to explain everything was fine and he  just has Autism. It’s funny because I have to reassure people that nothing is there and they’re normal.

The cashier was nice and offered #2 a lollipop and asked if I wanted to take one for #1 who was returning the kid-sized shopping cart. Somehow #1 heard and came back to answer, “Yes, I want one!”

So we are out of the store opening our lollipops when #3 turns around in her stroller and starts to whine she didn’t get one. I keep forgetting she is now at the age when she knows what candy is and knows she lucked out. So #1 shares his lollipop with his little sister.

#2 finished his lollipop and repeats,”Garbage. Garbage. Garbage.” I realize he needs to throw the stick away. I tell him, “There is a garbage over there.” #2 walks to a garbage can on the street corner. #1 and I look on nervously, terrified any second he will just dart into the street. #2 throws away his stick, smiles, and runs back to us. This was a really good moment. #2 didn’t wander further away, he completed his task and came back to us. This was a really good day.

This might seem trivial to you but to us, moments like these is what going to help us get through these really bad times. We are still going to laugh at silly jokes and celebrates #2’s milestones. We are going to be ok and maybe even bet-

#1 is shouting, ” Mom, #3 has toilet water!”

I have to go.


Post #2

Before I started this blog, I always had ideas about what I would write about and the audience I want to connect with. Fear and embarrassment have kept me from starting. However, over a month ago, my husband sat in our living room, in front of my son’s entire therapy team, with his bags packed. After the meeting was over, he left. A few weeks later, he moved the rest of his stuff out while our son was in his therapy session. I   can now honestly say that there isn’t really anything more that can embarrass me.

This abandonment has left me vulnerable-mentally, emotionally, and financially  vulnerable. He has stripped me of my confidence, sense of worth, and control of my life.

This blog is important to me because I feel it is the only thing I solely possess. I plan to use this blog to find out who I am and rebuild my life. This isn’t about being a good writer or how many visitors I get on my site. I don’t care if no one reads this. I am just creating a space where I can be myself again.

I will try to post more regularly. I have so many ideas about what to write about, but mom life gets in the way of writing. Like right now, my daughter is putting  a coin in her mouth…I have to go.

P.S. I will work on better titles for my post. Post #2 is pretty lame.


#1, #2, #3

I  was not sure if you caught on, but I have been referring to my three kids as #1, #2, and #3. I am doing so to protect their privacy. #1 is my oldest, who is my golden boy. #2 is my son who is rocking the spectrum. And #3 is the princess. It’s sometimes confusing when I write or reread my post. I will try to make it more clear. Kinda think of  #1, #2, and #3 as their names.


Ok, I’m Doing This…

Crying on the bathroom floor

A couple of years ago, I found out I was pregnant with my third child. Baby Number 3 was a complete surprise and to already stressed out family, not entirely great news.  We were just finally warming up to the fact ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis) therapists come into our home everyday to help Number 2. Finding myself pregnant and parenting a child with Autism was terrifying and I had major doubts that I can be a mom to all three. I googled why parents chose to have another child after an Autism diagnosis and what I gathered was many do not. I felt like I was making the wrong decision in having a third. But then I came across a blog, a mommy blog. A mother of three, one of which who had a child with Autism. She wrote about how it was hard to parent an autistic child. She would have to explain her son’s behavior to the other children, sometimes even protect them from his more aggressive behaviors. When she had enough, she would lock herself in the bathroom and cry. But she loved her son and that’s all that matters.

After reading her blog, I felt better better about myself as a mom and my decision to have my last baby.

This is why I am blogging. That maybe another mom out there needs to read that it’s ok to cry in the bathroom and not be sure of yourself. There are others feeling the same way. I don’t have all the answers but I am learning to be a better mom each day.

From Left: #1, #3, and #2.