Living With or Without Parents
Babies Raising Babies
First of all let me explain a few things. I was born to 2 kids. My dad was 20 years old & my mother was 16 and month shy of being 17. Babies raising babies.
At this time I am in my 40s with 3 grown kids all in their 20s. I will & have told anyone who asks about my childhood—It was GREAT!
My dad's parents raised me. So I had a great childhood as an only child. I do have siblings, but we never lived under the same roof. Who would love living with Grandma & Grandpa?
My dad has always been involved in my life. He raised my siblings. Most of the time he was single, so he raised them on his own. Just remember, my dad is only 20 years older than I am. So growing up, he was more like my big brother than my dad. I've always called him Dad, but I would like to think our relationship is better than father/daughter.
My mother on the other hand, was a very different situation. I'll call her "Joy." Since I lived with Grandma & Grandpa, I missed out on all the horrors that went on during my parents’ divorce. I was 9 at the time they split up.
At first Joy took my siblings, all while she was trying to work and figure out what she was doing. From time to time I would hear from her, other times I would find out from others what she was doing. This lasted maybe 2 months.
One day my dad's sister called him one day out of the blue and asked him to come and pick up the kids. WHAT? Come to find out she had asked my aunt to watch my siblings while she was at work — 2 weeks prior. Joy had "forgot" who she left them with. The kids were only 3 and 4 years old at the time this all happened. From that point forward my siblings lived with my dad.
We lived on a farm when I was a kid — out in the sticks. So typically I didn’t spend much time with Joy. She lived almost 2 hours from us. My dad lived about an hour away. She would drive to see my siblings, take them places, and do things with them. I was lucky if I got a phone call from her once in a blue moon.
Eventually my grandparents and I moved about 30 minutes from Joy and about 4 hours away from my dad. I was in 8th grade at the time. There were a lot of things going on in my life. The reason we moved close to Joy was because my Grandpa was sick and needed to be close to his doctors. He had cancer.
So during this time I would actually spend almost every other weekend with Joy. Everything seemed to going good until I lent her my bike. Innocently I lent it without asking Grandma. I didn’t think it would matter since she was my mother. Oh how wrong I was! My Grandma was very upset because she had bought me my bike. And she said that my mother wouldn't bring it back. So I had to give Joy the bad news. Then she got mad because she wanted to use it. And I was nothing but a spoiled brat. So the day came for her to drop off my bike. I had just gotten home from school. And no one else was home. She basically threw my bike out of her truck and left. She wasn't even to the end of our block when my Aunt & Grandma pulled up into our driveway.
The reason this part of the story is so important is this... Later that evening my dad called. He was mad and was insisting that I come live with him. Why? Well my mother had called him and told him that when she brought me my bike I had been on our front porch with 3 or 4 guys. And my dad didn't know any better. He just thought Grandma was letting me do whatever I wanted.
This was the beginning of me seeing my mother's true colors. As time moved on, we began fighting more and more to the point of us not talking for years on end.
Fast forward to today.
I recently split up with my soon to be ex-husband. So the first thing that happens — Joy sends me a friend request on Facebook. I have been through multiple surgeries, to the point of getting a Staph infection. The day I was getting released from the hospital with the Staph infection was the last time she called me — over 3 years ago. And the day she called, she wanted something from me, like usual.
My dad is active in my life. My Grandparents have passed away. Joy is not a part of my life nor is she a part of my children’s lives.
There is a point in life where you need to walk away for your own good. My dad never talked bad about my mother when I was growing up. He is a good dad. Someone needed to be a good parent.
I have learned over time that negative people need to be removed from your life. Joy will no longer be a part of my life.