My beautiful boy...

I'm not sure if Pieter's father reads this...my guess is no. I've held back from mentioning him in this blog just in case, but at this point I don't really care. There's so much I want to write but I just don't know where to begin. I feel like I've wasted 3.5 years of my life, but I will NEVER regret having my son EVER. He's my world. I feel like I was, and still am, his mother and his father. Don't get me wrong, Chris was a good dad...when he chose to be. He definitely didn't give him all the attention he needed. Yes he worked, as did I. I worked from 11:30pm to 8am every night. I slept when Pieter napped or when Shirley was having a good night and was actually able to sleep. On average I slept 5 hours a day/night and not consistently. I was exhausted for over a year. On top of the job and taking care of Pieter I was also expected to clean, do laundry, and make sure Chris was always happy. I felt like I was stuck. I ate. I got HUGE. Chris somehow convinced me I would never do better, so I just dealt with it.

(I'm not in the mood to go into any sort of detail...too much to say...but let me sum it up with a few words in regards to what I had to go through...abortion/attempted suicide(him)/Mental ward in Nebraska(where I put him)/physical and mental attacks/being held down/guilted for hours until I gave in/knocked up for the 2nd time/did any and everything with no help/cops called multiple times by neighbors/Pieter too scared to talk/more suicide threats/refusing to let me and Pieter out of the car/tried to hit me with his car when I drove away/more suicide threats.)

I felt stuck until Jere suggested we all move in together. I was so excited because finally, F-I-N-A-L-L-Y, I could see myself escaping. Someone else was going to see what I saw. I said yes immediately whereas Chris was not for it at all...and for obvious reasons. I wanted someone else to experience the Chris I had to deal with daily.

Jere got to meet the Chris I knew almost immediately. The lazy Chris. The one who didn't think parenting was a job. The one who came home from work after a 4 hour day and sat on his ass playing video games instead of helping me raise my son (and I will always refer to him as MY son...he's always just been mine). It didn't take long for Jere and Trish to witness his anger issues either. I knew it was time to kick him out when he didn't strap Pieter into his booster chair properly. Pieter's chair was on a counter height barstool...with a back...so it was pretty high off the ground. I walked around the counter and watched my son fall, still strapped in his chair, to the ground. He bit entirely through his lip. Where was Chris? Standing next to him YELLING. I picked Pieter up and calmed him down while Chris proceeded to take the booster chair and throw it as hard as he could while blaming me for the whole event. Trish was shocked. I was scared for Pieter. He ended up being fine and I kicked Chris's ass out 2 days later.

Anyway, regardless of our split he should still try and be a father. He doesn't even fight to see him or talk to him. Fine with me...but I just don't get it.

Also, if you are reading this...PAY YOUR FUCKING CHILD SUPPORT!


I end this with some older pictures and a video of my little man. He's the most gorgeous baby I've ever seen :-)