My Son Refuses to Eat Spaghetti

The hardest thing I've had to deal with as a single parent came a week before Christmas 2011.  It was something I had no control over.  It was something that to this day, I shake with rage and sadness when I think about it.  It is something I have kept pretty private up to this point.

Things on Facebook today have prompted me to talk about this.  And, with April being a month that supports talking about this, I feel it's a good time.


On the weekend of December 16th-18th, my kids were at their dad's house.  On Saturday the 17th, I got a call from him saying that Gavin wouldn't stop crying about missing me and he asked if I was able to take him for the day.  I didn't work so I said that was fine.  When he dropped Gavin, my little man was so excited to see me.  His dad told him, "You sure you don't want to be with us?  We're going to go to Wahooz."  Gavin still wanted to be with me.  His dad was obviously irritated.  And told me he just said they were going to Wahooz to make Gavin want to stay.

Gavin and I ended up spending the whole day holding each other, watching movies, and sleeping while snuggling.  He wouldn't leave my side.  His dad picked him back up that evening to stay the night at his house again.

On the 18th, my kids were scheduled to come home to me from their dad's house.  I received a phone call from him about 4pm asking when he was suppose to drop them off.  We agreed on 7 or 7:30pm.
A little after 5pm, I received a second call from him.  I could hear Gavin crying and screaming in the back.  When I answered, his dad was yelling at him, "SHUT UP AND EAT YOUR FOOD!!"  When he stopped yelling and realized I had picked up, he informed me that Gavin was whining about missing me and refusing to eat his food.  I asked to talk to him.  Gavin was sobbing and could barely get words out.  I told him that he needs to sit down and eat and he'll be able to come home soon.

A little after 6pm the kids arrived at my house.  Their dad acted completely normal.  We talked about what we would do as far as where the kids would be for Shia's birthday, the 22nd, and talked about when I needed him to pick them up because I was working.  Totally normal.

I then took the kids to Pizza Hut, where my then boyfriend worked.  While we were there, Gavin had to go to the bathroom.  When I was helping him pull his pants back up, I saw a huge red mark on his leg.  I asked him what happened and he told me, "Daddy got mad and spanked me."  I was furious.

When I got home, I took off Gavin's pants and looked him over.  I was mortified.  My baby was covered in bruises.  I started crying.  And my son, perfect little angel that he is, started consoling me.  He put his hand on me and said, "I'm sorry Mommy.  I'm sorry I have these owies.  I'm so sorry."  I told him I was sorry he had those owies.  I told him those are not his fault.  I told him he is never to be sorry for someone hurting him.  I told him I was sorry his daddy did that to him.

I asked him why Daddy spanked him.  He said that it was because he, Gavin, was crying about missing me.  And that he kept whining so daddy spanked him over the side of a chair, with a belt.

The facts break down to this:
My son was upset because he missed me.  He was throwing a fit, crying, whining, etc.  He refused to eat his food, and even threw some of it.  His dad was apparently tired of hearing it and took my son and put him over a chair (where the mark on his stomach came from), held him down with one hand (where the marks on his neck and shoulder came from), and spanked the shit out of my son with a belt.  He said he used his hand AND his belt to spank him.  There were no marks on Gavin's bottom.  Not one.  Nor were there any marks on Shia, who was also spanked according to their father.

They have not been back to their dad's house since December 18th.  I reported it first thing in the morning on the 19th.  The investigation has been over since January.  The detective turned the paper work into the prosecutors and it's been a waiting game to see if anyone will take the case.  The detective told me that it'll be tough to get them to take it because they have to prove that he used excessive force on my son, because Idaho law allows you to hit your children, even with objects, as punishment.

My son was just barely 4 years old at the time.  4 years and 1 month.  It took 2 whole weeks for those bruises to go away.  The one on his calf made me burst into tears every time I saw it.  I could just see the belt hitting my baby boy... because he missed me.  He was beat because he missed his mommy.  A 4 year old.

Gavin refuses to eat spaghetti now.  That was what they had for dinner that night.  That is the food he didn't want to eat because he just wanted to go home.  He used to love spaghetti.  And now, every time I've even suggested we have spaghetti for dinner, he starts crying and telling me he hates spaghetti and doesn't want any.



I have had to keep my availability completely open regardless of the fact that I no longer can have them go to their dad's on the weekends or evenings, when I frequently work, which is outside of daycare hours.  I have had to make my mom watch them so I can work.  But that won't work through the summer when my mom goes out of town for her audits.  And I'm terrified to let them go back to their dad's without me or another responsible adult being there to ensure that he doesn't freak out on them.  And who knows if, or when, he'll ever be charged with beating my child.


The point of sharing this is to show you child abuse happens all the time.  You never know who will do it, or who it will happen to.  We got lucky it was just bruises.  Nothing broken.  No cuts.  We got lucky.  Which is why I reported it.  I can't let my baby get hurt again.  I refuse to let anything happen to him like that again.  And I refuse to allow the opportunity for that to happen to Shia.  Abuse generally doesn't start with the worst scenario imaginable.  It usually starts with small incidences.  And escalates to more severe cases.

April is Child Abuse Prevention/Awareness month.  I'm doing my part in getting people talking about this.  Are you?  It won't go away unless we are all aware of the problem and taking steps to stop it.  Report any incidences you are aware of.  Watch interactions more closely.  Keep your eyes open.

It shouldn't hurt to be a child.

Where is the Time??

Outside of money, the most frustrating thing for me as a single parent is finding the time to do everything.  Yes, when I was married he expected me to do most everything because I was home during the day, but now I work close to 30 hours a week and commute for two hours (at least) per day.  And some how I have to find time to get laundry done, dishes washed, carpets vacuumed, kids' room picked up, children bathed, homework done, the list could go on and on and on.

As it stands right now, my daughter just completed her homework, that was due today, this afternoon.  I have three FULL baskets of CLEAN clothes and two stacks of clean clothes in addition to that and another load in the drier, that need to be folded/hung and put away.  I have a dish washer full of clean dishes and a sink half full of dishes ready to be put in the dishwasher once those are put away.  And the kids are both ready for baths.

Yet the clothes stay.  The dishes stay.  And the kids will bathe tomorrow.  Today, I'm exhausted and am thinking of going to bed early.  Procrastination is not a good trait for Super Moms.

Surviving Alone

After leaving my husband, I started working more hours, and put the kids in daycare for the first time.  My job doesn't pay that well, and my brother offered to help me out with the daycare.

The kids' dad started off okay, paying me a hundred or so per pay check, starting around November 2010.  Between January and May 2011, he hadn't even given me $300 total for the kids.  And I didn't receive a dime from him after that.  He took half our tax return in February, and my half went to pay my brother for what he had paid in daycare up to that point.  And their dad still wouldn't give us any money.

On my W2 from 2011, I made less than $17,000.  Now I know that seems alot to people who only have themselves to pay for, but when you are paying $400 in rent and $70 every two days for gas, buying food, clothes for the kids as they grow out of them, etc, it isn't enough to survive.

I work my ass off, and honestly, I have nothing to show for it.  At this point, I'm about to be over drawn around 7 times by the end of the month... and some how I have to make up for that to have enough for rent for the month after that.  It's a cycle that I'll never get out off until I a) get paid more and/or b) get more hours.

I wonder if this was the stuff my mom dealt with when she first became a solitary parent.  Though with her, it was not by choice.  And since my dad died, she did get help from social security.  I get my pay check and that's it.

Their dad is not required to pay child support because we are legally still married.  I want more than anything right now to be able to say I am NOT married to him.  That part of my life is totally over.

It is hard financially to do it alone.  But aside from that, I feel like this is how it is suppose to be.  Just me and the kids and Yoshi.  I am alot happier this way.  Someday I'll find someone worth bringing into my world.  But they have alot to prove to me at this point.  I'm a bitter old maid when it comes to men.  I have an enormous crush on a guy, and I'm scared to death to say anything about it because I don't want to ruin the vision I have of him.  I don't want him to show me that he's like the rest.  So I leave it alone and just smile every time I see him or talk to him.  And I keep things perfect by keeping quiet.  It's okay.  I'm more than just surviving alone... I'm succeeding alone.

How I Transitioned to Solitary Parenthood

I got married in May of 2004.  I loved him more than anything in the world.  I was about two months pregnant with Shia at the time we got married.  He told me later he didn't want to get married, and felt that I forced him to.  I thought that we loved each other and that it was what we were suppose to do.  I wanted to spend my life with him.  I would have done anything for him.  He, however, wouldn't do the same for me, unless he was losing me.

I found out that the only time I meant anything to him was when he thought he would lose me.  When he had me he was never around.  He worked full time, but when he wasn't working he was either gone with "friends" or he was on his X-Box/Playstation.  When we were together, we were fighting.  Over money... over time he spent away... over stupid random shit.  Every day.

Yes I had good times with him.  Yes there are things that I miss.  But I no longer love him.  I can look at my life with him and see just how sad I was.  I see pictures of myself from when I thought I was happy, and all I see is depression.  He made my life very difficult.  He cheated.  He yelled.  He blew our money.  He was overly aggressive.  I was scared of him.  I always felt like I was walking on egg shells.  I changed myself to try to make him happy.  I did everything I could to try to stop the fighting.

We separated in 2006.  I know I should not have gone back to him.  But if I hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten my son.  But when we separated again while I was pregnant with Gavin, I definitely shouldn't have gone back.

He came over one day telling me he got divorce papers.  We hadn't even talked about finalizing anything.  I was livid.  I started yelling at him and told him to get out of my mom's house (where I had been living since Jan 2006).  He wouldn't leave.  I tried to force him out.  And at one point, he shoved me to the ground.  I was carrying Shia.  And I was about five or six months pregnant with Gavin.

Just before I found out I was pregnant with Gavin, I found out about a different pregnancy.  My husband was served papers for child support.  The child was his ex girlfriend's son.  And he was seven months younger than Shia.  When I was seven months pregnant with Shia he told me that his ex had asked him if he would help her get pregnant because he was the only man she trusted and she wanted to have a baby.  I told him no.  In fact, I believe my words were, "FUCK NO.  ARE YOU INSANE?!"  Well, it turns out he asked me if he could "help her get pregnant" because he had already had unprotected sex with her while I was working 14 hour days and was, like I said, seven months pregnant with our first child.

You'd think all of that would have been enough for me.  Any normal woman would have left.  But I always want to believe in the good in people.  He said he was sorry.  He said he'd never hurt me again.

So many fights and stupid situations between then and when we separated.  So many dented walls, cracked doors, holes in walls, bruises from being squeezed and smacked.  And I just wanted him to love me.  I just wanted us to make it.

When I told him I was leaving, he begged me to stay.  Promised he would do whatever he could to make it better.  Swore he'd do whatever I asked of him.  I didn't go back.  But not because I knew he wouldn't change.  I didn't go back because I had told my mom I was leaving him and I wanted to finally keep my word to her about that.  But around April 2011 I was so close to just giving up and going back.  I had tried to move on from him with two other guys.  The first got what he wanted and never talked to me again, until recently.  The second made me feel amazing for almost two months.  Made me feel like the princess I know I should be treated like.  He shared so many wonderful things with me.  His favorite thinking spot, his favorite food places, etc.  And then he disappeared.  He blocked me on Facebook out of the blue.  It's been over a year since I talked to him.  All of my sadness and confusion over those made me almost go back to my husband.

April 2011 I met Kekeluv.  He was doing his annual Live for 175 (child abuse prevention program).  First time I met him my husband was with me.  Keke was amazing with my kids, as I expected.  He was so sweet. And listening to him on the radio for that week I started to feel so guilty for even considering going back to my husband.  All of the things he was doing to me was having an impact on my kids.  Every time their dad put me down, made me cry, shoved me around, my kids were learning that it was okay for a man to treat a woman like that.  And every time I had to tell my kids that daddy didn't mean to spank them as many times as he did, it was showing them that I was okay with how he treated them.  I couldn't go back.  I knew it would be the worst decision I ever made if I did.

I am not perfect.  I lose my temper with my kids way more than I should.  But I have NEVER left marks on them.  And they know that I love them.  We are working on the yelling thing.  Gavin and I especially.  We both yell when we are frustrated.  So we're working on it together.

Without my husband I am a stronger person.  I am back to being myself.  I no longer cower down to please anyone else.  I am me.  I am strong.  And I am single.  As soon as I can afford a divorce, I will be divorced.  I will never go back to him.  And as of right now, he won't be seeing my kids any time soon.  I will post on that later.

Welcome to Solitary Parenthood - My Mission

Hey everyone.  My name is Tansy.  I am kind of new into the world of solitary parenthood.  I have been separated from my husband since Oct 2010, but am living on my own with my children (without family/friends/etc) for the first time ever.


A little about me:  I'm 27 years old and work for a large retail company.  I've been with said company for 5 years now.  I merchandise in the store, which means I am in charge of placing the product.  I enjoy my job most of the time.  ;)  I have two kids.  My daughter, Shia, is 7.  My son, Gavin, is 4.  We also have a puppy named Yoshi, who will be a year old in June.


I'm starting this blog because I have found more and more that I am learning all kinds of things through my mistakes that I know could save other people the trouble of going through the same things.  They say hind sight is 20/20.  And they are right.  It's crazy to me to look back on my life, mostly on my marriage, and think that at one point, that was my life.  I was a totally different person.


I am many things in my life.  I am a mom.  I am a merchandiser.  I am a maid.  I am a chef.  I am poor.  I am happy.  But above all, I am proud.  I am proud of myself for getting to this point where I can look at my life and see all the bullshit and garbage that happens, but at the end of the day, I'm still happy.  I still love my life.


Through this blog, I plan to touch on many sensitive issues.  I plan to talk about money, relationships, chaos, and happiness.  I will be sharing my personal experiences.  And I will be sharing my opinions.  If you can't handle that, you are more than welcome to leave my blog and never come back.  My feelings will not be hurt. :)  If you stay, I hope you learn something, or at the very least get some sort of entertainment from my life.


Welcome to solitary parenthood!