It amazes me sometimes how much I have dealt with over the last 5 years of my sons life. Tonight was more than one mother could handle. I have always been open and honest about the situations regarding IT (my son’s
dad) simply because I am hoping that somewhere among the drama and hard times someone out there will see this and learn from it. If I could turn back the hands of time…man I swear, it didn’t have to be like this.
Once upon a time I took my son to ITs house religiously every Saturday night or Sunday morning. Then this happened and I had to hold off for a long time. On Kimoni’s 5th birthday, August 22d, I broke the barrier and allow him to go over there again. This time he spent the night. I never stressed so much in my entire life. I just knew something was going to happen. Luckily it didn’t and Kimoni managed to come home harmless but smelly. Smelled like a little dirty child…it was horrible, I can’t even describe it. It left such a disgusted look on my face I kept him home the next 2 weeks. The 3rd week I tok him over and allowed him to spend the night. Figuring he’d enjoy that lost time spent with his brother’s and sister. Sounds like a good idea right? Wrong again. This time IT wasn’t even there, Kimoni didn’t get the haircut I asked IT to give him and he was itchy (eczema flared up) and sleepy (obvious stayed up way too late). We arrive at my mothers house like we usually do on Saturday night. He spends the night with “Nanna” since I work on Sundays. Plus that’s grandma day. Anyway, we get there and as soon as she opens the door he blurts out “I’m hungry, I want some dinner”. Mind you it’s 8:30p. I left him there that long on purpose so he could have dinner with them but I guess feeding the children was not as important as selling weed. So they hadn’t eaten dinner when I got there at 8:00p. I make my son a bowl of spaghetti and some cheese toast. He ate the food like a child in Somalia. As if it were the first and last supper. I sat there in tears watching my borderline starving child scarf down food with his eyes closed and his mouth against the bowl spooning the food in. He was so sleepy and hungry that 5 minutes after I had given him the food he was done. He went and climbed into my moms bed and passed out.
This is when I knew enough was enough and I was going to have to minimize his time spent at ITs house. Tonight, as usual, I pick Kimoni up from there. Only this time he reeks of shit. I ask him “Did you boo boo on yourself”. He answers “no” but lowers his head. I knew something was up so I check his bottom and sure enough there’s crap in his pants. I left cause I was bout to go off. I knew that me asking her why she’s walking around the house the house and doesn’t smell the shit reeking from my babies ass was too much for a naive girl to comprehend. I’d have a better chance at asking Kimoni, the five year old, what really happened.
ITs baby mama calls me to apologize for what happened. Don’t say sorry now. And I tell her it doesn’t matter but I wanted to know who was watching him. She tells me that one of ITs friends was there while she went grocery shopping because IT was gone when she got there. That explains why Kimoni wouldn’t ask someone to help him wipe his butt. He doesn’t know dude. ME and her get into it and I flat out tell her, “I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m tired of compromising with ya’ll. I can’t keep worrying about him every time he’s over there. That nigga ain’t even there half the damn time. And then ain’t nobody watching him or feeding him. I’m good. that’s it, I’ve had it. You tell IT that if he wants his son…come get him. I’m not bringing him over there no more. Bye!”.
So that is the end of that. I explained to Kimoni in the best way possible without dissing IT that I’m not taking him anymore. And to be completely honest, he understands. He’s not stupid, he sees what’s going on.
Wooo-saaaaa!! I had to get all that out. It drives me crazy sometimes that IT asks like this with his own son. This was once a man…a father…my best friend…and now, I have no respect for him at all. None. He’s been reduce to just IT. I use to hope for the best for him because a part of me still cared and hoped he’d get his shit together enough to realize the damage he’s done to his kids. Now…I just don’t give a fuck. My only concern is making sure whatever he’s doing doesn’t have an effect on what happens in my house. That my son never grows up thinking this is how a father should act or even how a man should be. It’s a damn shame. SMH.