Deadbeat Dads

So I've been thinking a lot lately about deadbeat dads. How is it that they can just walk away from their own flesh and blood, their own child? Or deadbeat moms for that matter. I've known a few of them over the years as well....my trouble in particular is with my daughter's deadbeat dad. Now she is approaching her 18th birthday in August. This man, who only just met her a few years ago, by his own choice, is thousands and thousands of dollars in arrears with Friend of The Court. He quit a well-paying position at DTE years ago and started his own company doing seasonal cement work. This, too was by his own choice...and he told me very vehemently that his reason was to get out of paying child support. Whatever. I've raised my daughter fine on my own all these years. I think she is an amazing young woman and she makes me incredibly proud. He has lost out on her entire life so far, other than the handful of times that he has seen her. What made me think of all this was the fact that I checked my child support account yesterday to see if by some chance he had sent some in...not so...last time was over 4 months ago. And that's what started these random thoughts of the penis-wielding son-of-a-bitch. Last time Ashley saw him was New Year's Eve. He showed up at the party she went to with her two half sisters (who are amazing, by the way and not at all like their father...at least not that I can tell) and when Ashley came home this is what she said to me: "You know, I honestly would not care one bit if I never saw 'Chris' (her father) ever again...I don't think of him as my dad and I never will." And she told me how he tried to hug her, just like he did her sisters, who he has remained involved with for their whole lives...and she felt very uncomfortable. Well, why the hell not...I mean this is the guy who had never even acknowledged her for over 14 years. His family also turned their backs on us. Her grandparents, aunts and uncles...none of them cared to recognize that there was another family member in the next town over...and here we are, almost 18 years later...and he is multiple thousands of dollars in arrears in child support and has lost out on a lifetime of love, joy and pride by his own choice. I could never turn my back on my own child. Never. These are random unfinished thoughts and they are disturbing my pleasant ones so I'm going to stop for now...

Love,
Mommy

My Little Trooper

Recently, my 3 year old son was in the hospital. I took him to Wyandotte assuming he had appendicitis. I was right. My poor little buddy. Got his first ride in an ambulance and doesn't even remember it. They took us to Children's Hospital of Michigan by ambulance from Wyandotte Hospital to perform surgery. We waited. And waited. And waited some more. Three hours after arriving, a doctor came in and agreed with the other hospital's diagnosis, however wanted to do an ultrasound to be sure. We waited. Two more hours and they took him down for the test. He was so brave through all this. I V's being inserted...unable to even take a sip of water with prospective surgery "soon" to be performed...an ultrasound probe poking and prodding him right where it hurt already, being in pain for more than 12 hours and still no solution or end to it. And then we were informed that he needed surgery. DUH!!! I thought that appendicitis was an emergency. I was told that as soon as we arrived at Children's, he would be taken right in to surgery. It was 14 hours later that finally he went in. By then his appendix had ruptured. This was, no doubt, the scariest day of my life so far. I love my little boy so much. I was strong for him and he was strong for me. He made me so proud. I couldn't cry in front of him. And I held strong throughout. Until the doctor came out two hours later and said that the surgery went well, he was okay, but his appendix had ruptured and he would need to stay in the hospital and have I V antibiotics around the clock to prevent sepsis. At that moment, I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I went outside into the bitter cold, smoked probably 3 cigarettes...and that's when I broke down. Alone in the middle of Detroit, so thankful to God that my son was okay. Kevin was at the hospital with me. I did end up calling him when we were on our way to Children's. I would kill him if anything ever happened to Jakey when he was with him and he didn't call me. Single parenthood...it's strange sometimes. Even though Kevin was there, I still felt alone...alone in my thoughts, alone in my fears, alone in knowing that the piece of my heart that walks around in a 3 year old boy was laying on an operating table without his mommy next to him...like my world was caving in fearing that something terrible would happen to my little boy. We spent 8 days there, Jake and I. It took him a while to eat again and he looked so frail when we got home...still does actually. He was running a high fever a few days after and I was still afraid that he was getting an infection from the poison released into his body from the rupture...but he pulled out of it. And we were sent home...and life went back to normal. God is good. Thank you for taking care of my baby.