So our daughter was born and he was thrust into fatherhood for the first time. Parenthood has a way of making people grow up, but not him. Nah, he couldn't be bothered with midnight feedings, burping, bathing, doctor visits, or diaper changes. He still had too many wild oats to sow. I guess since, by this time, I had already been a mother for six years, it was expected of me, if not just my duty, to take up his slack.
So I did - just like he knew that I would. He still didn't think anything of staying out on his all night benders, drinking and running the roads - while I, like the good wife (idiot?), stayed home and minded the babies. I didn't have a choice, see. It wasn't like he came home from work and then left again. No, sir. He went right on from work to his benders, never coming home at all until the wee hours of the morning when he was done. So what if I needed something from the store or one of the kids got sick. That was too bad because, even though he had a cell phone, he wouldn't answer it no matter how many times I called. I'm not sure where he went and at that point, I no longer cared. Actually, I never cared. My whole issue with the situation was that he was trying to make an ass out of me and I had no way to retaliate.
My family didn't know how we lived or what all I had endured at the hands of the man who promised to 'love and cherish' me. I just kept it all to myself because my sisters had been in similar situations and it was common knowledge. I swore I would never, ever be in a situation like that and always said they were crazy for allowing that kind of abusive behavior to go on. That was when I was single and still green in the ways of the world. Before I was ear deep in dirty diapers without a friend in the world. Before my self esteem had been shattered and before my head realized how quickly the odds can stack up against you.
His family knew how he was. He had been this way all of his life, but I didn't know it until it was too late. When somebody's trying to woo you, see, they put on their best face. They don't show you the dark side until you're too far away from the light to find your way back. That's what happened to me. I'd call and tell his sisters all of the things he had done and they would just sigh and make comments to the effect of they 'guessed he wasn't ever going to change'. I don't know why I called them. I guess to try and shame him in some way, not because I wanted their help. His mama was no different. They had always turned a blind eye to the things he did because they were scared to confront him.
My family did get to witness some of his alcoholic antics. It was Thanksgiving 1998 - two months after our daughter was born. I'm not quite sure how he ended up at my sisters house because he's never been to my sisters house before or since - not even with me. But he did and he was drunk and he got drunker. I, of course, was at home with the babies like the good wife (idiot?). I remember that night my sister called to tell me he had just left her house and that he was 'crazy'. He was drunk and violent and tried to beat up her husband. She told me to lock the doors and to not let him in because, frankly, she was scared for me. So I laid out daughter on the couch to sleep. My daughter was asleep in her bedroom and I went to lock the doors. He came flying home and went into a fit of rage when he wasn't able to open the doors. Yes, he tried to bust through them. He tried to kick them open. All the while, he was cussing me and threatening me. In the meantime, I had called the police and they were listening to every thing he was saying because it was that loud. Still holding the phone to my ear, I walked over to the couch to pick up my daughter. Just as I got her nestled safely to my chest, the window shattered and shards of glass pierced the couch where she laid not three seconds before.
