After my divorce with Dave, I get a house in a small town, still in Texas, just outside of Dallas. I made Trey repeat the seventh grade, during COVID he did nothing and the school allowed him to pass anyways. I stood my ground with him and the school. There was no reason he couldn’t repeat it in a different town where no one knew him. The school was worried about his image and social norms, they fought me on holding him back. I didn’t give two shits about what people say or think about me or my son. I wanted Trey to learn, not just be handed a pass for nothing. That is when it all went to hell for me.
Trey’s mindset on school was over.
Once COVID hit, he could have cared less about his homework, grades, etc. When I say I tried everything, I truly mean it. I bought an organizing binder to help keep him organized. I kept a calendar to remind him of assignments. I would get online and confirm the work was submitted. His grades never got better, it didn’t make sense. How could he fail when assignments are turned in? Well, if you submit a blank sheet of paper, that’s how. I was being manipulated by my own son. He knew I couldn’t double check his work if he submitted it. So, he would submit nothing to show on my side it was complete.
Treyson was full of life as soon as he was born, wide-eyed and curious. His toddler years were one to tell in itself. This child of mine, so happy, excited about everything, and could never sit still. That’s what I loved about him the most, his excited attitude over the littlest things!
Treyson is a natural in life itself, he grabbed ahold and didn’t let go. I do give myself credit for his positive outlook, as I try to stay positive as much as possible. It wasn’t until Trey got older, he learned the truth about life, and its not so positive.
Treyson was a hyper toddler, always climbing something, jumping off something, or creating something to climb or jump off of. He was full of life every day and I loved it. It was him and I against the world, I told him that all the time the first few years of his life.
It really was him and I against the world, literally making the best out of what we had. I wasn’t able to provide much but I did provide the necessities and then some. Trey didn’t go empty-handed for any holidays or birthdays, I made damn sure of that. Even when he was a baby, I made sure he had enough to entertain him and keep him busy.
I wouldn’t consider myself a “traditional mother” as I was a younger mother, raising a child in my early twenties. I had a different view back then, simpler days. Trey brought the creativity out in me and opened my eyes to really understanding kids.
If we were standing in line for something, Treyson couldn’t stand still. I created a “safe place” for him while we waited. He could run circles around me, hold my hands to stay close and not bother others around us. He did just that, stayed close but ran his energy. Did we get some looks, absolutely, did some people disagree, absolutely. That never stopped him and made me more of an outspoken person.
I usually wouldn’t say something to anyone unless I knew them, I wouldn’t consider myself an “outgoing person”, not like Trey and his father. I wouldn’t just go up to anyone and start a conversation or asked to be included in something others were doing. That just wasn’t me, but that was Tyler and now Trey.
Someone might say to me, “he’s got an awful lot of energy”, I would simple smile and say “yes he does” with confidence. I didn’t care if they thought he was on crack (ok poor choice of words, but kinda funny also) or just a weird kid, didn’t matter to me. That was my attitude when it came to being a mom, no one was going to tell me how to be a mom. No, I didn’t know what I was doing back then, even today I still don’t have a fucking clue. That’s the beauty of children, people in general. We are all different and in so many different ways, not two people will be exactly the same.
I treated my son the way I thought was best and I stand by that.
As a toddler, Trey went to a home daycare. Janice was the best. An older woman who had run daycare out of her home for years. Plenty of room inside and out. Trey loved going there and never wanted to leave.
One day I picked him up and she told me he bit another little girl.
Without thinking, I grabbed his arm and bit him back. Not enough to hurt him badly, but enough to make the point. When he cried, I asked, “Are you going to bite ever again?”
“No ma’am,” he said.
Yes, I was hard on him. I felt like I had to be. I was raising him alone. I couldn’t depend on anyone but myself.
From the moment he could talk, he said “sir” and “ma’am.” That was my rule. It wasn’t how I was raised, it was something I required from him out of respect.
I set expectations early. I knew one day he would be bigger than me. And I would still need him to respect me. Especially knowing he didn’t have a father consistently teaching him how to become a man.
Treyson was full of life as soon as he was born, wide-eyed and curious. His toddler years were one to tell in itself. This child of mine, so happy, excited about everything, and could never sit still. That’s what I loved about him the most, his excited attitude over the littlest things.
Treyson is a natural in life itself. He grabbed ahold and didn’t let go. I give myself some credit for his positive outlook because I try to stay positive as much as possible. It wasn’t until Trey got older that he learned the truth about life and it’s not always so positive.
He was a hyper toddler. Always climbing something, jumping off something, or creating something to climb or jump off of. He was full of life every single day. It was him and I against the world. I told him that all the time in the first few years of his life.
And it really was.
We made the best out of what we had. I wasn’t able to provide much, but I provided the necessities and then some. Trey didn’t go empty-handed for holidays or birthdays. I made damn sure of that. Even as a baby, he had enough to entertain him and stay busy.
I wasn’t a “traditional mother.” I was young, raising a child in my twenties. Simpler days. Trey brought creativity out in me and opened my eyes to really understanding kids.
If we were standing in line somewhere, Treyson couldn’t stand still. So I created a “safe place” for him while we waited. He’d hold my hands and run circles around me. Stayed close, didn’t bother others, burned his energy. Did we get looks? Absolutely. Did people disagree? Probably.
That never stopped him.
If someone said, “He’s got an awful lot of energy,” I’d smile and say, “Yes he does,” with confidence. I didn’t care what they thought. That was my attitude as a mom, no one was going to tell me how to be one.
I didn’t know what I was doing then. Truthfully? I still don’t. That’s the beauty of children, no two are the same. I treated my son the way I thought was best.
Tyler and I both had tears in our eyes looking at what we made together. Some one asked about what his name will be, I hadn’t officially picked a name yet. I really like Remington James Shaffer, call him Remi for short. That was what I thought, until I saw him, he looked more like a Treyson. I said “I‘m leaning towards Treyson” and Treyson cooed at the perfect time that Tyler and I looked at each other, smiled, and said “his name is Treyson, that’s what he wants”.
Thinking about this moment makes me so happy and warm, its definitely one of my favorite memories. I still remember Tylers face, how happy he was, how much I saw in his eyes he could change and be a great dad. He had the potential and already talked about the things he wanted to do different than what his dad did for him. This pregnancy was going to be the best thing for us and keep Tyler on track!
Even though Trey was born just after midnight on Sunday, they released me Monday! I hadn’t taken any pain medicine, I was up moving around, no stitches needed (my doc wasn’t kidding about the back and forth on a yoga ball), and ready to go home. The trip home was surreal, the dad driving the mom and son home, be a family like we previously “planned” hypothetically. In reality, dad driving on a revoked license with passengers in the backseat, that could look like we were kidnapped.
The first week of being home was hard, Trey was jaundice, not enough to be under the light at the hospital, but enough the doctor wanted to see him every day. This was what I wanted, home to get time together and to sit out in the sun, which also help with jaundice. We went to the doctor every day that first week. Some disagreements between me and Tyler were really just his mothers opinion, not the doctors advice. Every day we went to see the doc, get Treys levels checked and each day he dropped little by little. I trusted the doctor I chose for my son, Cindy didn’t like me not taking her advise. That didn’t stop her from going through Tyler to try to get me to do what she wanted.
I wasn’t one to give in, especially to someone that doesn’t have my best interest. Cindy may tell others she just wanted to help, but ultimately she was just like my mother. This wasn’t just eye opening to me, more like a kick in the face. How had I not seen it before? I knew in my heart I was doing the right thing for my son, and I stood my ground.
Cindy is a Case Manager in the hospital we worked, but she was more about fashion than patients, in my opinion. The bleached hair, fake nails and eyelashes, full face of makeup, and the wardrobe to match. That’s all Cindy was about, her image and what people thought of her. She had me convinced Tyler was a decent person, manipulated me into trying to change her son. The really messed up thing is, that I really did love and care about him so much, until Treyson came into the world.
Even today, knowing that Tyler is still struggling and still enabled by his mother. I see where Tyler won’t grow up because his mom won’t let him. Now I’m in the position I have to make Treyson grow up. Before we get into his “adulthood” lets go back to his younger years.
My doctor came in to check on me and said if he decides to come before midnight, “I’ll deliver him myself”. Well, Treyson must have heard that and decided he didn’t want to or maybe he didn’t want to share a birthday with Rene. That little shit came just after midnight, 12:31 am to be exact. There wasn’t much time to deliver, once his head crowned, he started pushing himself out. Not kidding, he stretched his legs out and was pushing on my ribs. Of course that’s when the nurse told me to “hold it” until the doctor comes. Hold it?! This child is about to break my ribs to get out on his own, how the hell do you “hold it”?
Doctor came in as she putting on the gown I say “I really need to push”, two pushes and he popped out wide eyed looking around. You don’t see that all the time but that was Treyson, wide eyed and ready, wasn’t even crying. I literally asked what was wrong with him because he wasn’t crying, the doctor and nurse laughed and said, “he’s fine, just looking around”. Tyler, Cindy and my mom were in the room and were standing over Treyson in awe.
Tyler took it all in, the labor he didn’t do great with, I‘m sure my pleasant attitude helped! As soon as the delivery part started, that dumbass was down a ready to catch Trey. We had talked about it before, he wanted to stay up by my head and not see anything. That changed very quickly, the crowning had Tyler all kinds of excited. He did cut the umbilical cord even though he thought that part was going to be the worst. So funny how expectations turn out to be better, but that’s not always realistic.
There was no stopping him, I woke up July 28th morning with extreme back pain. I could barely stand it, the shower I took was useless as I could barely stand up. Tyler again wasn’t there and I couldn’t get ahold of him. The pain kept getting worse in my back, at times dropped me to my knees. I started noticing there was a pattern to the pain. I call the doctors office and explain my pain, they tell me to come in asap. I finally got ahold of Tyler and made it apparent I was in extreme pain and he need to come get me asap. He pulled up, anxious and scared, I was on my hands and knees in pain. A contraction put me down again and I couldn’t stand, he ended up picking me up and carrying me to the car. He drove like a fucking maniac all the way to the hospital, he’s lucky I didn’t kill him!
I get there and they want me to sit in a wheelchair to go upstairs, the contractions were so bad I couldn’t sit still. I made them stop halfway so I could turn around and sit on my legs facing the wrong way. No, it didn’t make sense, didn’t look comfortable at all but that’s what I had to do. We get to the room and they tell me my contractions are five minutes apart, all the pain is in my lower back. I got to the hospital about noon on July 28th, which is Rene’s birthday.
I walked the halls as much as I could, the doctor said there was no way to stop this labor, he was a little early but he’s ready. I trusted her and did what I could to deal with the pain. I know I was in labor for over 14 hours, I have no idea when my actual doctor came in and demanded an epidural. She came to check on me after the on call doctor had twins to deliver and another went into labor. My doctor came in for about 30 seconds and walked out. Cindy came in says the doctor was ordering me an epidural asap. My doctor came back in and said I am getting an epidural, as they walked in with it. She didn’t like my blood pressure being so high and Treyson’s heart rate declining. As soon as the epidural was in I crashed. I was so exhausted, I don’t know how many hours I went without relief while trying to walk in the halls. I also had my dad, Tyler, Mom, aunt, anyone to rub my lower back with their knuckles, it felt better with a lot of pressure.
While working at the hospital I was helping a patience back into bed when he said “oh my, I hope your pregnant cause something kicked me”. I had leaned over him to fix his oxygen and my belly mashed his arm into the bed. I laughed and said “yes, I‘m having a boy, he’s very active”. He said, “you must be eating spicy foods”. I definitely was every day, some times three times a day, also carried a bottle of hot sauce with me. He told me then that his wife always wanted spicy food and their daughter was very active as well.
I always enjoyed the stories people had with their experiences, the good ones at least. There are some women that have those extreme labor stories that make you cringe. I had a friend tell me how she ate spicy Indian food the night before she went into labor. When she was told to push, she would see the doctor use his arm to sweep something off the table, it was diarrhea. I admittedly went to my doctor and asked for the real deal on labor. She told me if I rocked back and forth on a yoga ball that I would have an easy labor and delivery. That became my religion, all day every day since I was on bedrest and she said that was the only thing I could do out of bed.
I couldn’t sit still, no way lay in bed all day, especially dealing with Tyler going missing whenever it happened. I wasn’t working and by the time I would go into labor, I would be out of paid time off at the hospital. We had nothing in savings, he spent everything on drugs. As soon as he got paid, he spent it. I had no control over anything and it was waring on me bad. My due date, they said, was August 15th, my dads birthday. I was so excited he would share a birthday with my dad. That was until the end of July, he had enough.
I told myself over and over again, “as soon as he holds his son he will change”. I saw the change my brother did after his daughters were born. Its different for a man than women when having kids. The mother feels different when pregnant, we feel the baby move and grow inside us, most of us get our motherly instincts during pregnancy. Men don’t get the opportunity like we do, you know they wouldn’t be able to handle it anyways. I do feel privileged to be able to make a life, I have so many family and friends that struggle to.
I had a few baby showers, one from work, one from his family, and one from my family. I did get everything I needed for Trey and more. Rene and her friends got us the crib that transfers into a toddler bed. Trey used that until he upgraded to a full size bed at age four, so we used the shit out of it. Actually, I ended up giving it to my brother who needed it for his kids, it was well worth it!
We ended up goin to a bar after my family’s baby shower, I ended up having an anxiety attack. I had a friend take me outside to take my one puff of her cigarette to calm me down. I just get overwhelmed with everything, everything going wrong, always wrong. That morning I had “lost” my ring Tyler gave me. I searched everywhere for it, never found it. I did find out eventually, more life got Tyler to confess, that he took it off my nightstand and sold it to get drugs. I never said we were “engaged” the ring was his mothers idea, go figure, it looked better for her. He also took my camera and pawned it for drug money. The only camera I had with my growing belly pictures. I never did get the pictures back.
By July, my baby was eager to get the hell out, who can blame him with all my stress. Tyler was not making any good choices for him or us. Even my specialized ultrasound they needed to confirm Treyson’s brain was developing correctly. A previous ultrasound measured his brain as under developed for his age. Instead, Treyson was hyperactive in the womb, he hated anything touching my belly. He was the perfect baby to always feel moving, even kicking my patience.
When Cindy left the boys, they were young, I believe Tyler was about eight years old. Jamie eventually got out of the military and married Rene. Rene is the sweetest woman and you would have never known her family was loaded, money loaded. Rene worked at a bank even though, I‘m told, no one else works in her family. Rene’s family was filthy rich but Rene never acted like it. Jamie and the boys definitely benefitted from this, also made them selfish and materialistic.
Rene did help me out with the apartment when I left Tyler and she helped me pay them off and repaid her with payments. Rene is a strong independent woman, I can’t image why she stays with a man that treats her like Jamie does. That’s my opinion, it’s my book, I can say whatever I want.
Jamie raised his first two boys with Cindy introducing them to weed at a younger age. I say younger as in, they didn’t know about it until their dad gave it to them, before their friends were even got into it. I bet Jamie thought it would help, they all have some mental issues, bipolar, ADHD, ADD, who knows what else. These boys could have no mental issues, but we will never know since they haven’t been completely sober their entire teen to adult life.
Cindy did tell me that Tyler was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, hard to believe since there is more than one to be diagnosed, an RN would know that. Anyways, Tyler and Deric got into the hard shit early. Deric had more of a control on it, as he was selling it to Tyler. I remember a time Tyler and I fought and I left, very pregnant and still on bedrest. I decided to park down the street to see what he would do. He called his brother and his friends to come over and hang out. I gave them enough time to get comfortable and I walked in. Drugs were on the coffee table, the room was filled with smoke. I walked in and raised a living hell on them.
Can you picture it? A five foot -nothin, huge pregnant woman and an attitude bigger than you can imagine. Once I noticed they ate my angel food cake I was on fire, someone was going to die. They all escaped with their lives, and in a hurry left their pipes and shit in my living room. As they pulled away I threw the pipes at them, screaming. I‘m sure everyone around didn’t think anything of it, this became the norm for us. After I threw the pipes at their car and they shattered on the parking lot, I swept them up, can’t leave glass in a parking lot. I went inside and just cried myself to sleep. Tyler didn’t come home that night either, he went MIA for four days, his brother didn’t know where he was cause he kicked him out when he ran out of money, two days prior.
This time in my life was supposed to the happiest time of my life, I’m pregnant with a life, a part of me and Tyler. This was supposed to be special time for me, for our families, and friends. Instead there was only pain, heartache, and disappointment. I went to most of my appointments alone, I took care of myself alone, the person that was supposed to be there for me wasn’t. I was in denial, Tyler wasn’t going to change, not like my brother did.
My time 