Ma'Ma

You only have one mom. I know...there's step-mom's, adoptive mom's, lesbian moms...but you only came out of one vagina...and that vagina belonged to your mom. Love her, hate her...regardless, she brought you into this world.

My oldest child was a surprise, but not really. We knew what we were doing and was aware of the risk. I was waiting for my period to come so I could start my birth control...however, it never came. We were happy to find out I was pregnant. Abortion was never an option for me, I just don't believe in it; for myself. My son was my buddy for a hot while. I would have never imagined when he was one years old that he would be my best friend...my only friend...to talk to. Sounds crazy right? But that's how it was. Living in Hawaii...a place supposed to be considered paradise...was my living hell. The first year I lived in Hawaii was hell. My son's father "worked" all day every day, and me and my son stayed home and chilled together all day... every day.

I'm not sure if all that time we spent together was a good thing, or a bad thing. My oldest son has a LOT of my personality. In other words...we CLASH. Big time. Growing up, I never really talked to my mom. I was always by her side, attached to her hip when I was little...but as I got older, we never agreed on clothes, style, anything. I always fought with my mom, but could chill with my dad. I was never really close to her like my sister is. My sister talks to my mom at least three times a day, every day. I call her maybe once or twice a week.

My oldest son will not talk to me. If he does, it's after a LOT of attitude, anger, hostility, you name it. There might as well be an explosion before I get down to the root of the problem of my sons issues. He never really tells me the ultimate issue, but I can get the jist. I'm his mom.

My son is mad at me. He's mad at me for not being with his dad anymore. He's mad at me for moving so much. He's mad at me for changing schools so many times. He's mad at me for everything. I get it. I try my best to handle it. But I will admit that it does hurt. I know I will never make him truly happy because all he wants is for me to get back with his dad and for us to be a family again.

My son saw a lot. He's seen me cry more than any kid should ever have seen. He's seen me angry, happy, frustrated...he's witnessed it all; and internalized it. UGH! Yea...so I can't write about it anymore...not the right time. Sorry.