Pilot

When I was a kid growing up in the 70's, I used to imagine what it would be like when I was a Mom. What kind of Mom would I be? How many kids would I have? Gender? What would they be like?  And how would we get along?  This blog is to chronicle my personal journey, along with stories, confessions, declarations, and all that goes along with being a Mom. From My perspective, and My experience.  I don't know if it will interest you, or if it will maybe help some poor woman know that she was not alone in having not such a great time of it.
My journey is not anything out of the ordinary. I'm a typical woman, with 3 kids, 2 step sons, and 5 grand-kids.  I am in my 40's, happily married (It took 3 times) to a wonderful man. He and I did not have any kids together, but it would have been nice if we had.If you don't mind indulging me, I'm going to tell you a little of my history, in the hopes you might understand me better, and why I react(ed) the way I did/do.

I was 18 when I had my first child. But I digress.  I was married at 16, both of us High School drop-outs. Pregnant at 17, a Mother by 18, and separated by 19. I married my high school sweetheart. He was cute, and sweet, and loved me unconditionally, or so I believed then. Oh! To be young and stupid ( & gullible!) again!  We kinds had to get married according to my Mother, since we ran away from home together.  Me, to escape a not-so-great home environment, and him, to be with me and take care of me. And he actually did, for a while. We had a rough go for a while. But what do you expect when you're 16/17 yr old kids, no education, no car, no job, and no prospects? Welfare. We worked assembling garbage cans that are used at people's homes. 

By the time I got pregnant, we had been married for over a year, had our GED's, and were in job training. We were trying. We were ok, except for the occasional smacking around that I got from him. My mother was physically abused by my Father, many times, and I had heard a few of her stories.  It mortified me that I was now "one of them", an abused wife. At 16. It started 3 ms after we got married. He'd apologize, cry, tell me "It'll never happen again".  Til it did. I remember one morning, getting ready for training classes. My first day, before I knew I was pregnant. We were arguing, and he slapped me across the face. When I raised my hand to slap him back, I was thrown on the bed and choked. To this day, 30 yrs later, it still freaks me out if my Sweetie touches my throat.

After our son was born, we were ok, and the hitting stopped for a while. But we started to drift apart, quickly.  I was ready to leave him. I was 19. I knew he was cheating on me, and I told my best friend at her baby shower, that as soon as I catch him, I'm gone. I had already left him 3 times within 6 ms for the hitting. Every time, I stupidly went back. I was from a broken home and I really tried for my child to not have the same outcome I had had. I caught him on Christmas Night, his girlfriend's overnight bag in the back seat of MY car. He told me he had to work. He was at his Mom's, with his whole family, celebrating what would have been our son's 2nd Christmas, with her. I kicked him out that night, and was out of our duplex 7 days later, by the first of the year, 1985.

My son was 1 yr and 2 ms old. I was 19, and a single parent.  And so my journey begins.......