I Am a Wonderful Mother!

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A good, long time friend recently came to my defence, in a comment to one of my blog posts.  She referred to me as a “wonderful mother”.  And you know what? I AM a wonderful mother!  In this post, for those who don’t know me yet, we’ll review just how wonderful of a mother I am.  We’ll consider some of the wonderful things I’ve done over the years.

  • In March 2000, at the age of 19, I lied to Patrick and told him my father had made me have an abortion a year earlier and I had miscarried once – so that he’d feel bad for me.  A week later I told him I was pregnant and really wanted to keep it.  Truth was, I had never been pregnant before; I just wanted to make sure Patrick would go along with my plans.
  • In August 2000, five months pregnant, Patrick and I had a fight about how I kept fucking things up and how bad shit seemed to follow me.  To spite him, I went into the bathroom and repeatedly punched myself in the stomach until I started bleeding from my uterus.  Patrick rushed me to the hospital.  That incident subsequently lead to my first son 3 month prepamture birth, which lead to his retinopathy of prematurity (ROP, blindness in one eye).  To this day, I publicly blame our son’s premature birth on a car accident I was in in July 2000.  A car accident I walked away from without a scratch.
  • In November 2001, when our son was 15 months old, I abandoned him with my mother, in Phoenix, so I could go back to Florida to be with Michael Capuano (whom I met and started fucking while he was still with his first wife raising their daughter).  To this day I publicly insist I didn’t “abandon” our son; I told my mother I was going to Florida and would contact her when I’m on my feet.  It doesn’t matter that I left no forwarding or contact information or that I never actually made any subsequent attempt to get on my feet and get our son back.
  • In February 2002, the family court ordered that Patrick and I are to share custody of our son in 2 week intervals.  I took our son back to Florida one time, for the 2 weeks, then never again.
  • From March 2002 through March 2011 I had 2 telephone calls with our son.  And no further contact.  I knew where he was that whole time, I just didn’t care.  Periodically, during that nine years Patrick would get in contact with my mom (Teresa Hoffman) and she would visit our son.  Mom and I were in contact with each other, and she would tell me about the visits…I just didn’t care.
  • In 2003, I had another son, Sage Capuano.  At that point, I lost interest in our son because now I had a new son with my new husband, Michael Capuano.
  • While I was with Michael, from 2001 through 2010, we would regularly fight – to the point of throwing things at each other, hitting, yelling, and all that shit – in front of Sage.  Because of that Sage has had problems at school with violence and aggression.  He once tried to choke a kid in his class, because that’s what he saw at home, so it was normal for him.
  • In January 2011, after I had moved back to Phoenix, Patrick tracked me down and proposed I have some involvement in our son’s life.  I swore to him and to our son I would not force anything on our son and things would move at a pace he’s comfortable with.  I told them I had been out of our son’s life for so long that I was okay with things moving slowly.
  • In August 2011, after only 2 very brief weekend visits with our son in Los Angeles (where they lived), I showed up at his home while Patrick wasn’t present and abducted him away to Arizon.  I immediately filed for emergency custody based on false claims that Patrick had hid our son from me for those 9 years I was absent and that I had just recently found out where they were.  It took Patrick 3 months to get our son back.  The whole experience was incredibly traumatic and psychologically scarring for our son, but due to my inability or plain refusal to see reality I ignored how it affected him and convinced myself he was happy and everything was right in the universe (in fact, I even used that very phrase on my Facebook page to express how happy I was).
  • All the time Patrick had custody of our son, I adamantly refused to provide any kind of support.  Since I have been back in our son’s life, I insist he leave the things I have bought/gave him at my place in Phoenix when he returns to Patrick.  Yet, at the same time, I take away the things Patrick has provided him and either hide them in my bedroom or give them away.
  • In December 2012, I filed a false report against Patrick, with Homeland Security, so that he’d get deported and I would get custody of our son.  It still doesn’t matter to me that our son doesn’t want to live with me, doesn’t respect my way of life, and only wants to go back to his father.  I am his mother!  I will make those decisions, not him!
  • I told our son that when I called DHS on Patrick I was just doing my duty as a patriotic American.  I know Patrick was born in the US.  I’ve seen his birth certificate (in fact, I have a copy of it right here; I provided a copy to the RCMP when I had Patrick arrested for harassment).  But as long as I keep stating, publicly, that his birth certificate is fake then it is – because reality is whatever I say it is!
  • After Patrick was deported to Canada, our son still said he wanted to go back to live with him.  I told him I didn’t care – the court said he has to live with me and that’s how it’s going to be whether he likes it or not.
  • When we went to family court in March 2014 and our son told the court he wanted to go back to Patrick, I later yelled at our son for saying that and punished him for it.
  • I regularly leave my children in the care of my tweaker, meth-head, violent criminal, fiancé, Kristopher Lauchner’s care while I’m out doing more interesting things, like drinking, hitting on other men, getting high, playing pool, and whining to my friends about how my life is so hard because of people like Patrick.
  • On numerous occasions, Kristopher took our son and Sage with him while he was illegally passing counterfeit money.  On at least one such occasion, Kristopher was arrested while the kids were in his care.  The police called me at work and I had to go get them.  When I showed up, the police found weed in my purse.  I got away with it and they let me go, with the kids.  I continued to support and defend Kristopher.
  • I was arrested, at home, for possession of marijuana, on our son’s 11th birthday.  It totally fucked up our plans, but I don’t care because the only thing that matters is me – not my fucking kids.
  • I allowed Kristopher to prominently display Nazi paraphernalia in our home even though our son is Jewish.  Anyway, that’s our son’s own fault – religion is stupid and people that believe in God are just idiots.  I use every possible opportunity to remind our son of that.
  • I allowed Kristopher to use meth in the presence of the our son and Sage.  I knew he was using it but as long as he didn’t do it right in front of them I don’t see the big deal.
  • I move at least every 2 years so that the kids have to start new schools and make new friends.  It’s good for them – gets them used to living an unstable, transient life.
  • I rush into relationships with men I hardly know, who often have violent, criminal backgrounds, and I move in with them, dragging my kids along.
  • Every time I start a new relationship with a new man, I go on about how he is the greatest man I’ve ever been with and everyone before him was a mistake.  That way my kids can learn how to have a normal relationship.  See?  Teaching by example – like a good parent.
  • I regularly extol the virtues and greatness of marijuana to the kids and use it in their presence so they learn to appreciate it.
  • I spend as little money on the kids’ clothes as possible so that they I have more money for myself, for weed and beer.  Patrick always spends hundreds of dollars on clothes for our son every time our son visits him – buying him quality, brand name things.  I would take those away from our son too, but then I’d have to spend my pot money on more clothes for him.
  • I refuse to allow my kids to have proper bedding.  Anything more than a sheet on their bed is extravagant.
  • I refuse to clean.  There’s nothing wrong with a messy, dirty apartment.  It’s just part of life.
  • I make the kids do their own laundry.  Not because I’m trying to teach them independence, but because I just don’t want to do it.
  • I never make sure the kids are actually washing or changing the linens on their beds.  Sometimes they’ll sleep on the same sheets for months without washing them.
  • I never make sure the kids are actually brushing their teeth.  Sure, I always claim that I am but really…nah.  Sometimes they’ll go days without brushing them.  Fuck it!  It’s their problem, not mine.  It’s not like I’m actually going to do anything if they get cavities.
  • I refuse to allow my kids to have their own bank accounts or to teach them to manage their money.  I see nothing wrong with living paycheck to paycheck your whole life.  Millions of people do it.  And by not allowing them to have their own money I can keep a very short leash on them.  Keep them needy and clingy.
  • I discourage my kids from trying new things, especially if those new things are “bourgeois” or snooty.  I don’t need my kids running around thinking they’re better than me.  I have enough of a problem with that already, with our son’s father introducing him to all that high falootin’ bullshit.
  • I don’t allow our son to have anything more, or anything better than what Sage has, because I believe it’s not fair to Sage and it doesn’t matter what’s fair to our son – even though our son’s father makes over a hundred thousand a year while Sage’s father is an unemployed yahoo.  Obviously, Sage is my favorite.
  • When Patrick got our son a PS3, PS4, and an Xbox One, I told our son he can only keep one console and I took the others away.  I keep them in my room.
  • Patrick got our son a mobile phone so that he could contact him without me listening in or interfering.  The family court recommended that and told me I’m absolutely not allowed to interfere with their communication, or to prevent our son from having or using the phone to communicate with Patrick.  I took the phone away.  Fuck the family court!  Who the fuck do they think they are, anyway?
  • I regularly listen in on, monitor, and/or record our son’s telephone calls with Patrick.
  • I’ve taken away, and will continue to take away the things our son’s father provides him.
  • When I had Patrick deported and ICE held him in custody for 3 months, I withheld all of the letters Patrick sent our son.  I blatantly denied it in court.  Only after the court sternly admonished me not to do such things did I give our son the letters.
  • I insist that our son travel with me and meet my family even though he has no interest in it and those people mean nothing to him because he had no idea who I or any of my family was until a few years ago, and even though it decreases the time he can spend with Patrick.
  • I sometimes refuse to allow our son to visit Patrick, claiming we already have plans when, in reality, there are no plans.
  • I regularly make promises to my children which I have no intention of keeping.
  • I make major, life changing decisions, like moving to another city, for no reason other than to be closer to my current or new boyfriend without telling my kids ahead of time or giving them any say in the matter.
  • I never accept responsibility for my actions – I believe it’s important to raise your children by example.
  • I constantly make racist comments in the presence of my children so that they will grow up knowing that white people are better and how fortunate they are that they’re white.
  • I regularly blame my kids for things they have nothing to do with and, sometimes, even punish them for it.  For example, I blamed our son for giving Patrick our new address even though I knew Patrick’s had the address for about 9 months.  For that, I took away the phone Patrick got for our son so they can’t communicate without me listening in.
  • I routinely get mad about things that have nothing to do with the kids and I take my anger out on them.  I yell at them, punish them for no apparent reason.
  • I refuse to allow the kids to have a regular physician.  Instead, I take them to the urgent care, walk-in clinic, but only if it’s absolutely necessary.  Medical care for our son doesn’t cost me anything because Patrick insists on providing for that, but fuck it, I hate going to the doctor – it’s such a hassle.
  • I don’t provide even the minimum amount of medical and dental care for my kids.  They haven’t been to the dentist since February 2013 and that was only because there was a family court hearing coming up and I wanted to look responsible.  Their teeth are all nasty and shit.
  • Before our son left to spend a couple of months with his father this summer, I noticed he had developed some kind of rash on his left ear.  I didn’t bother having it checked before he left.  I just put some Neosporin on it and told him to go away.  While he was in Vancouver, it got worse and Patrick took him to one of those Canadian doctors.  The doctor gave him antibiotics but the problem persisted.  When our son returned after two months he still had the rash.  I waited another month before I finally took him to the doctor.  Turns out it’s a bacterial infection which he picked up because I’m such a fucking slob.
  • I forbid our son from telling Patrick about anything that goes on in my home and when I suspect he has (whether he actually has or not) I punish him for it.  I know that legally and morally Patrick has a right to know what’s going on in the environment his son is being forced to live in but, again, I just don’t give a fuck!   Don’t you see by now: nothing in this fucking world matters except for MEI am the only thing that matters!  What I want!  And it doesn’t matter how many people get hurt, as long as I get my way!

Well, I can go on forever, but as you can see from this list – which is just off the top of my head – I am clearly and without a doubt an excellent, wonderful mother.  I love my kids almost as much as I love whatever man I’m with this week.  But only as long as they’re not an inconvenience to me.  God damn, parenting is hard work.

2 Responses to I Am a Wonderful Mother!

  1. Lidia says:

    Is this woman for real!!
    If she did all this mess up things there’s no name for it.

  2. A Good Mother says:

    So where are your friends to come to your defence now? Funny how your friends disappear when they realize how full of shit you are. Tell us, just how do you portray yourself to your friends? Do you tell them how you’ve never done anything bad?

    From the list above it seems to me you’re just pure evil. There is not one good, decent thing about you. The world will be a better place when you’re no longer in it.

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