Mommy Issues

When I read the book "I'm Glad My Mom Died" written by Jennette McCurdy, I instantly felt a wave of relief. Someone else felt the same as I did. (Another part of me was jealous that I hadn't written a book with that title). Finally, I felt that it was okay for me to say it outloud, "I'm glad my mom is aging, I'm glad she's not well, I'm glad that she won't be able to plague my mind any longer, I will be glad when she's dead." Some might say that that's a terrible thing to say, but I say it's well deserved.

I have held onto my experiences tight, like a child holds his blankie. They constantly whirl around in my head, wanting desperately to come out onto a page. I've told my story to more people than I can count, and I want a place where if someone wants to know about me and my life, I can just send them a link. I'm tired of thinking about this, I want as I'm typing for it to disappear from my mind. I know that won't happen, but even if this helps just a little bit, it will be worth it.

You know, they call custody battles "custody battles" because typically it is a battle. Well, that wasn't the case with my parents.

After the Incubator cheated on my father (dumbest thing she ever fucking did) he divorced her ass and wanted custody of me. So he took her to court. It's so unusual for a man to want full custody of his kids that the judge had to ask the Incubator, "Did he threaten you into giving up custody of your child?" And she said no. She flat out told the judge that she didn't want me. How sweet of her.

When I was just 5 years old, I lay of my father's chest as he watched his hunting videos. My father is an avid hunter, so much so that he enjoys watching others enjoy the woods on a flatscreen from the comfort of his own home. I suppose in those moments he wishes he were in those very woods, and not in a suburban Hell. Same, dad. Same.

I guess my little head was spinning at the time, full of questions that no little girl should ever have to ask. It makes me wonder, how bad was it? What did my birth mother do when her daughter was a mere 5 years old that would make her ask this question? Must have been pretty bad. So bad that I don't even remember. But I suppose I'll ask my dad some day.

"Why doesn't mommy love me?" I asked my dad, who must have been taken off guard. I feel for him, as he should have never been put in the position to have to answer such a question. What do you say to that? What do you say when you know that your child's mother doesn't love her? Do you tell her? Do you lie and insist that she does?

All I know is that I will never be so bad a mother that my children have to ask such a question. And if your child has had to ask this about you, you've already failed as a parent. You've pretty much failed as a human, not just as a parent.

And if the Incubator is reading this, I hope you know that no child at the age of 5 has it out for you. A child is innocent, loving, and needs to be nurtured properly. Nobody convinces a child their mother does not love them besides the mother themselves. So bravo, your fuck-ups are so grand that even your own child at the age of 5 questioned why you didn't love her like you should have.

You know, I understand substance abuse to a certain extent. I really do. But if you cannot stop using a substance for the sake of you're children, there truly is no saving you. I promised myself I'd be honest on this website, and I will hold myself to that, so if you are easily offended by the bashing of substance abusers, move along.

My mother smoked cigarettes and drank alcohol when she was pregnant with me. When I told her that I quit vaping immediately when I got pregnant with my daughter she said, "Oh my god, when I got pregnant with you I quit smoking right away! I would never endanger my child!" What fucking bullshit. Little does she know, that her best friend would rat on her. She would tell my dad that she was over at her place drinking and smoking without a care in the world, all the while I was being exposed to toxic chemicals in utero. Thanks a fucking lot Karen. (That's my mothers name, go figure). Maybe that's why I have ADHD. Maybe all of my struggles could have been avoided if you weren't such a selfish bitch. But alas, you continue to this day to be a selfish bitch. And you will die a selfish bitch.

I'm angry, as you can see. Who wouldn't be? I have experienced pregnancy. I have experienced loving someone (my child) like I've never loved before. I cannot imagine purposely hurting my child. She is disgusting for that, and always will be. I grew all the more bitter when I had Helvy (my daughter). I couldn't understand how someone couldn't love their child. I couldn't imagine just giving birth to a beautiful human and tossing them away like fucking garbage.

Anyways, Karen has always had substance abuse issues. And you know, I would feel bad, but who's fault is it?

Karen's mother (my grandmother) was a saint, I called her Mimi. My brother said to me one time, "Mimi was our mom", and he was absolutely right. She was. She was the mom I needed when Karen was getting drunk at the bar during her visitation. She would, on a Thursday evening, put on scrubs (she was a dental assistant, although she likes to call herself a dentist to whoever will listen) and kneel down in front of me and say, "Mommy has to go to a work meeting, okay?" A work meeting? At 10 pm? I actually bought that at 7 years of age, then I grew up and realized she just wanted to go drink instead of be a mother.

It's almost like I didn't realize she had a problem when I was young, but then I remember her giving me liquor in my morning coffee on Christmas morning one time when I was 14 years old. I remember her taking me to go party at a boat marina and her getting blackout drunk, then trying to drive home with me. I remember her taking me to party (this happened many times if she had nobody to watch me, but she'll swear she brought me along because there were other children there) at the boat marina and having me sleep in the same bed as her boyfriend I had only met that day, and whom she'd only known a very short while. I remember her chain smoking cigarettes on the way to school even after I asked her to stop and wait until I left. I remember her leaving me alone with a man she barely knew when I was a small child, and he let me on his computer where I was made to find pornographic images of him on it (I now know that he put them there on purpose). I was an ugly knockoff Coach purse that she lugged around only because she felt she had to, and even when I was watching, she wouldn't act like a 40 year old woman, she was a fresh 21 year old babysitter. But even a 21 year old babysitter could be a better mom.

You tend to grow up quick when your mom doesn't love you. It kind of ruins all the fun, ya know? When your mother ignores your safety, your crumbling innocence, and your wilting ego.

Upon reaching adulthood, the Incubators substance use was spiraling out of control. I refused to speak to her for months at a time, since everytime we spoke it typically ended with her faking tears and telling me how much I'm loved and how she "carried me for 9 months in her belly". Yes, that came up far more than it should have. I was told by many that knew Karen that she was a raging alcoholic that would go on tangents about how my father stole me from her. And yes, she actually believes that. I heard from a few people that she was using more than just alcohol, whatever that means. In other words, she was a mess.

It seemed like karma (that's her favorite word by the way, karma) was catching up to her at last. Until I got a phone call from my brother, telling me that Karen was going to rehab and that she was making an "effort" finally. This gave me some (false) hope, thinking that she wanted to better herself. Even if it wasn't for her children. I cannot believe that I actually got up off my ass and went to see her into rehab. But at the time, it actually felt as if she might actually turn it around. Spoiler alert: she didn't.

The Incubator is a pathological liar. She will lie about anything and everything, even if it's something as simple as what she ate for fucking breakfast. I will never understand why she does this.

I remember I "worked" (I put that in quotes because I was so young and kind of just hung out at the place) at my mom's boyfriends game shop. Some of you might actually know the shop, Stomping Grounds, right next to the Cold Stone in Chesterfield. Yeah, I used to hang out there when it was my mom's turn with the Coach purse (me, I'm the Coach purse, remember?).

Anyways, I would chill behind the counter, not really doing anything at all besides thinking about boys or something dumb. I had a fat crush on my "coworker" Kyle, he was super cool and probably way too old for me at the time. But that particular day the Incubator decided to hang out with Kyle and I behind the counter. She was being her normal embarassing self. Loud, obnoxious, coughing her loud smokers cough for everyone to hear.

"You know, I have something wrong with my tooth so I think I'm gonna schedule an appointment at the dentist office. Hope I can get a day off for that." Kyle retorted, clearly in pain from whatever was going on in his gabber.

I was probably on my phone texting my boyfriend at the time or something, not really paying attention. Until my mom said the dumbest lie I'd ever heard. "Well, I'm a dentist, let me take a look!" I just about threw up all over the Magic the Gathering cards splayed out on the counter. In case you didn't know, she's NOT a dentist. She was a dental assistant, and at that time she was living off Mimi's inheritance money, so she wasn't even in the dental field anymore.

This was the one time I felt the need to speak up, "You're a dental assistant, mom. You're not a dentist." I said through gritted teeth. Boy did that embarass her. :)

Maybe she felt bad about her life. Maybe she hated herself so much that she felt the need to lie to get anyone to like her. I'm honestly not sure why she chooses to lie about such trivial things. Right in front of me too.

She would do it in front of my dad too, right in front of him. When they were married they'd go to meet friends or go to a party and she'd lie about the dumbest shit. And then when my dad would question her in the car afterwards, she'd either deny or she'd say it was "no big deal". I can't imagine being married to such a nasty liar.

Did I mention the Incubator is a theif too!? Bet you weren't expecting that! (You totally should have expected that).

When my parents divorced when I was two years old, I was completely oblivious to whatever was going on. My dad made sure to protect me from it all. I will forever be grateful for that.

The Incubator cheated on my dad, for absolutely no reason by the way. I've been able to observe my dad and how he acts in a relationship for my whole life (with my stepmom Melissa) and I know how loving and attentive he is. That apparently wasn't good enough for the Incubator. Not only did she cheat, she cheated with his best friend.

My dad, being the calm Taurus he is, packed up her stuff and told her to get out. He rented her an apartment for her to live in (yeah, my dad is that fucking nice), and paid her college tuition so that she could get a degree and get a better job to make money for her child. You want to know what she did? She went to classes for about two weeks, dropped out, and collected the refund for the classes. She never gave that money back to my dad.

She is a garbage human being.

(If you were wondering, she never paid a penny of child support either. What a gem.)

Some might say: "Ava! You can't call your mom a whore! That's disrespectful!" Well first of all, good. And don't worry, I've already told the Incubator that she's a whore many times. I think she already knows.

My parents (when I say parents I mean my dad and stepmom, although my stepmom has literally been my mother since I was three) used to refer to my birth mothers boyfriend's by number. She introduced her young daughter to so many guys that they started to refer to them by number, isn't that sad? I remember some names though, like Jimmy, Ken, Jimmy again, Brad (loved that guy), Jimmy again, T, Jimmy again. Yeah, Jimmy kept coming back. Not sure why. But anyways, the point is my mother barely knew these guys before she introduced me to them.

At first, it was always guys that owned a boat, go figure. But then, she started to look like shit, so she couldn't get with those guys anymore. One time (probably more than once actually) she lived with a guy and instead of paying rent or working, she'd have sex with him as a form of payment so she could keep a roof over her head. Actual prostitution.

She has never really been able to support herself. It was either my grandma housing her, or a man putting up with her shit for a little while in his house, or she'd prostitute herself.

Not exactly sure if she is still pimping herself out, but she probably is since she lives with male "roommates" that seeminly charge her nothing to live with them.

When my daughter was born, I told her that I would never treat her the way my birth mother treated me. And one day, when she asks why we're not going to visit my birth mother on Christmas, she will be old enough for me to explain why.