My boy spawn…
Soooooo….last December, I wrote about him on Facebook. I was in the dumps, it was Christmas and once again, my son was not with me and I did not get any call or contact from him.
Well…guess what? Tomorrow I will be driving to the Marine base to see my son. I don’t know what changed and made him finally reach out to me, not sure if it’s the letters I wrote him or he was so happy with the box of treats I sent him and decided he wanted more and should call me or if the drill instructors have beaten some sense into him.
I don’t really care. All I know is that I have not seen him in 6 months. I saw him twice in December.
The 1st time was when after weeks of not speaking with me, we talked on the phone and he told me I could take him to lunch. Little snot. I took him to a restaurant he chose, which turned into a mess. Pretty much all he said throughout lunch was this:
“I don’t know”, “none of your business”. He complained his food was not good but ate all of it. When lunch was over, he simply got up and started walking to the door. Ignored me and walked to the car Mr. Piece of shit , aka shitbag, ass wipe, dickwad, fuck face, fucktard, dickless wonder, hopeless loser, schmuck, asshole, prick, dipshit, sperm donor, loser, waste of space, douche, hemorrhoid… you know… the ex-husband gave to him and drove away.
The 2nd time was when girl spawn had her tonsils out and she asked him to come see her. Did not speak to me at all, sat next to Mr. Piece of shit on the other side of the waiting room and just got up and left after the surgery was over.
Total asshole, acted exactly like Mr. Piece of shit. Everything I taught him about being kind and loving and having manners was gone. Just fucking kills me.
What I wrote in December pretty much sums up who he is…
I noticed there was something different about him when he was about two and a half. An anger that went beyond a two year old’s temper tantrum. His pediatrician told me he thought boy spawn was probably, ADHD, ODD or bipolar. I of course told the pediatrician he was an asshole.
I took him to two other pediatricians and they both said the same thing.
They all three said my son may need to be medicated at some point.
Mr. Piece of shit, aka the ex-husband agreed with the pediatrician about medication.
Hell no. There was no way I was going to put drugs into my baby. Because there was nothing wrong with him.
He was suspended and then almost expelled from preschool. Kicking hitting biting screaming, and not just with the other kids, with the adult teachers.
When he started kindergarten I had regular conversations with his teacher who requested I have the school evaluate him. I did and the school psychologist suggested I have him evaluated by a therapist.
When he was five and a half and I was 7 months pregnant with girl spawn, Mr. Piece of shit left.
That was after telling me to get an abortion because he “didn’t want another thing like that “as he pointed to the other room where boy spawn was.
When he left, it was the darkest time. For boy spawn and for me. A horrible sadness, confusion and depression in both of us.
When he started sleepwalking and peeing on the furniture in his sleep I got a referral to therapist.
That started the journey into my son’s mental health.
He started medication at the end of his kindergarten year; the following year other parents and teachers told me they were amazed at how much he’d matured over the summer. It helped him tremendously.
Multiple psychiatrists, psychologists, licensed clinical social workers, biofeedback, admittance to a study of bipolar children by the authors of The Bipolar Child and a consultation at UCLA.
I contacted UCLA because he was 7 years old and threatening to stab me in my sleep. When they told me to put him in a mental hospital I couldn’t do it.
It’s the hardest fucking thing in the world to say your child is emotionally disturbed.
He terrorized girl spawn and I.
Broken windows, pictures broken, holes kicked in walls and doors.
He kicked his bedroom door so many times it cracked on both sides, vertically and horizontally.
The constant phone calls from school, couldn’t keep any friends either, he antagonized all of them until finally none of them wanted to be his friend.
At one point he had a friend, a boy who was black, whose mother was wonderful who invited us to her house and I invited she and her son to our house. I was really looking forward to a friendship with her; she was a super nice lady. It was a short friendship because boy spawn got angry with him and called him a ni**er.
It was awful, but not as bad as when he told a boy at school that he was going to get his father’s gun and bring it to school and shoot him.
The yelling. Constantly yelling. So much anger and everything he perceived wrong was my fault.
Mr. Piece of shit was no help at all.
He would say things to me a like “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Or my all time favorite, “My life is different now”.
Raising my son has definitely not been a walk in the park.
You know that expression “If I had a dime every time?”…
If I had one for every time the police were here I would be a rich woman.
Absolutely fucking horrendous way to live.
Add to all of this that boy spawn is so damned scary smart.
He was reading sophomore college level in the third grade and understood it all.
He decided ROTC at school was what he wanted to do, always trying to please his dad, who always wanted to be in the military. He actually started making friends and even a girlfriend. He’s been on an educational plan at school for years, something I fought for, that helped him tremendously.
When he decided two years ago he could disappear from the house for hours on end and do whatever he wanted, I said no and things got even more difficult in this house.
He asked to live with his father, something he always told me he did not want. He used to beg me to not send him there, which was fine, because whenever I asked his father to help me by taking him for any period of time to give me a break he always said no.
You know those women who say “Oh my son or my daughter lives with their father?”
I’m ashamed to say I always thought those women were assholes. I always wondered what would make them give up their kid?
I have become that woman.
See what happens when you are a judgmental twat? As girl spawn would say, “Oooh, you got served”.
No more educational plan. He had stopped taking medication several years ago. His grades all turned to shit and he announced he wasn’t going to college, he was going to be a Marine but I should give him the money I saved for it because it belongs to him.
Our relationship became almost non-existent and last year when he told me he wanted to join the Marine Corp early he needed my signature. I did not want to sign but agreed because I knew if I didn’t it would be more reason to hate me. He then asked me to lie to the Marine recruiter and sign documents saying he had never been diagnosed or medicated for ADHD, ODD or bipolar disorder, I refused.
That earned me a “You fucking bitch”, Dad says he will”.
Interesting to note that the Marine Corp indicates ADHD is disqualifying only if the potential recruit has been treated with medication within the past year, or if he or she displays “significant” evidence of ADHD symptoms.
Ever heard of Parental Alienation?
Mr. Piece of shit has trashed me for two years now to my son, who understands that hating me makes his father love him.
Boy spawn now says growing up in this house was awful and the “conditions were terrible”.
I asked him did I beat you? Starve you? Did you not have nice clothes to wear? Did you grow up in a horrible ghetto house? Did I call you names?
His reply? “You called me an asshole once”.
Seriously? Your own therapist told you that you acted like a dick.
He is still my son. He was a much wanted and prayed for child.
He has been manipulative, dishonest, angry, verbally and physically abusive.
He’s also funny, so damn smart, affectionate, intuitive, handsome and so loving when he wants to be.
I desperately miss my kid and I understand completely that I will not have a relationship with my kid until Mr. Piece of shit gets scooped up.
That means croaks.
Well, Mr. Piece of shit did not croak, and tomorrow Mr. Wonderful, girl spawn and I will go to that Marine base and see boy spawn.
I’m scared. Crazy since I am the mother and I have always tried to be the strong one for them and tried to not show them how scared I have been over the years being a single mom.
Do I hug him? Can I hug him? Will he allow me to hug him?
I miss the days when he was little and I could hold him and kiss him and just smell his little boy neck.
I’m afraid sometimes that I blew it with him and that it’s my fault he has been such an angry kid for so many years.
I learned a long time ago, no matter what, it’s always the moms fault.
Wish me luck….