Despite all of my concerted efforts to keep Patrick from finding out my new address and that I’ve moved in with yet another in my endless stream of dead end boyfriends, it turned out he already new everything – as he usually does.
Nevertheless, it seemed as good a time and reason as any to take away my 14 year old son, our son’s, iPhone. The phone which Patrick, our son’s father, got him so that he could stay in touch with him. The phone which the family court expressly ordered me not to interfere with – because it is the only reliable way which Patrick and our son have to communicate. Sometimes I would take off for a week, with our son, and not notify Patrick at all and he’d have no idea if something had happened; if I had decided to take our son and disappear. Ah, the wonderful games we white trash, single mothers get to play with the men who have rejected us.
You see, what I did was I told our son that Patrick used the Find My Phone feature of his iPhone to find out my new address. It doesn’t matter to me that I’m legally required to keep Patrick apprised of the address where our son will be residing. And it doesn’t matter that our son’s iPhone had nothing to do with Patrick knowing my new address. It just provided a convenient excuse to be able to cut off communication between them.
There’s no question that our son hates me – and why shouldn’t he after all the shit I’ve done to him. But I’m his mother and he’s going to do as I say, no matter what! And being able to be in constant, unsupervised contact with his father was only making things worse…for me, anyway.
So, I took away his phone and told him he is only allowed to talk to his father in my presence. Of course, the family court is going to be pissed about that but obviously I don’t give a shit what the family court thinks. Why should I? I had Patrick deported – he’s not even a US citizen.
Keep in mind our son lived with Patrick from 2001 through 2011 during which time Patrick raised him completely without me while I was off living my own life with my new family. Until 2013, when I had Patrick deported and immediately filed for emergency custody of our son.
So I ask you: Does that make a good parent, or a cruel, sadistic, narcissistic, fascist dictator?
Either way, does it really matter? I’m his mother and he has no choice in the matter until he turns 18.
But the question does still remain: Just how did Patrick know where I moved to? Could it be the GPS tracker hidden in amongst our son’s things or in my car? The private investigator he’s had monitoring me for the past couple of years? Or am I really that simple and predictable? Has the years pot smoking slowed my brain so much that I’m oblivious to everything going on around me? Or am I just so self-absorbed that I fail to notice anything that’s not directly related to what I want?
God damn, I love being a parent! Hate all the bullshit responsibilities and hassles that go along with it, but sure do love being the unquestionable master over other people that have no choice but to do as I wish.