I remember being a little girl and saying I’d never be like my mom. NEVER EVER. I’d never do the things she used to do to us, or the things she used to say. To this day, I’ve been true to my “Never”, except on a few occasions. My mom used to slam my “biological Father“… constantly, religiously. I used to think it was for sport and it made her feel good. I was wrong about her in this situation. He was a dead beat, so now that I’m older and in the same boat; I understand. I’m still not as ruthless as her but I fear in time…. I will be.

My mom used to always complain about the small things my dad bought for me, the trinkets. As a kid I thought they were awesome. I remember turning about nine or one of my birthdays around that age, my dad filled a big Macy’s box with dollar store buys and free toys. I knew it wasnt top-notch but from a child’s perspective it was the best thing smoking; my own toy box. While from a mother’s perspective… it was bullshit and he wasn’t shit; dollar store toys ugh!

“I understand NOW… I didn’t get it then.”

It’s like you don’t want to down the attempt to do something good after a long list of nothing but c’mon really??!! I look at the small insignificant things he’s bought for her and I compare them to the recent sacrifices I have to make on a daily basis. I compare them to the recurring bills to support her and they don’t add up!!! They aren’t even equivalent to the “pot to piss in or the broken window to throw them out. It burns me up. I mean adds fuel to this forest fire; yet I remain silent.

Not for the sake of sparing feelings, keeping friendships/smooth encounters, and not for the sake of exposing my pride

but for the sake …..“the sake of the child.”

It is in that “silent” action alone, that differentiates me from my mother.

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