Tag Archives: Kids

What Big A Thought As a Kid

2 Sep

Just had to share this one before I forget…

We were all in the car one day and the traffic report was on the radio. They mentioned an accident on a local highway.

Big A says to me, “Hey, Mom…the first time I heard this on the radio, I thought they meant that someone peed their pants.” He laughs. “And then I thought, wow, that’s really embarrassing that they announce that to the whole world on the radio.”

Get it…accident.???????????????????????????????

This kid cracks me up!


Still Alive

6 Jun

Hey, out there! So sorry I haven’t posted any more chapters or ANYTHING at all! I have been wrapped up in getting my new ZUMBA® business off the ground.

Finally, the fundraiser I ran on June 1st – with the dual purpose to help a local food pantry AND let people know about my ZUMBA® classes starting – is over and the classes start next week. I can take a breather!

And then there’s this kid. He takes up the rest of my time. Seriously cute, but seriously high maintenance! But I can’t say no to him…that’s why Dad kicks around! 😉


So I am busy working on another chapter to SAHM – stay tuned 🙂 Again, sorry it’s been so long!


The Secret Exploits of a SAHM – Chapter Nine – Are You Our New Daddy?

27 Nov

Please remember the following: This is not an autobiography. It is a fictional book, loosely based on reality. I apologize in advance for swear words. This is an adult book and not for children to read.

Are You Our New Daddy?

By D.M. Wright

“He’s finally asleep.” He comes back from the baby’s room to find me huddled on the couch. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up. I want to make sure you don’t need medical attention.” He holds a hand out to me.

I reach up and he grabs my hand and leads me to the bathroom. He has already run a bath. I undress and sink down into the warm, sudsy water. It feels good on my bruised skin.

“Oh, sweetie…” His voice catches. Then he begins washing my back with a sponge.

“What?” I whisper. I know it’s bad.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “I’m going to kill that bastard.”

I look at him closely. I see that he is pretty serious. I discover that I am not anxious to argue with him.

“Do you think he will come back today?” He asks.

“I don’t know. Probably late tonight as he always does.” I start crying. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Shhh, shhhh. It’s OK. I am not going to let you stay here anyways.” He smooths my hair. “We’ll take the boys and go somewhere safe.”

We confirm that nothing is broken. Maybe a cracked rib or two, but there’s not much you can do for those besides taping your side. He didn’t touch my face or anywhere that clothes wouldn’t always cover. He knew very well what he was doing.

I pack bags for the boys. The minute they get home from school we take off. I leave a note saying we were staying with my family and that if he knew what was best for him, he would leave us alone. I call in to the school as well and tell them the kids would not be attending for the rest of the week as we were going on vacation.

Now that I know I am being followed, it is easy to spot the guy. He is not being very inconspicuous. Either my husband didn’t tell him I knew about him following us or it didn’t matter anymore if I knew. I drive with only the kids to my mother’s house and we hang out until later that night. We all “turn in”, shut off all of the lights and sit quietly in the dark. He stays for a bit, but then pulls away and drives off. We weren’t sure how long he would be gone. Maybe he was just getting a quick bite to eat or a cup of coffee. Maybe he was going home to shower and sleep and come back in the morning. In either case, he would for sure, be back.

I see my knight in shining armor pull into the driveway. The kids and I grab our bags and quickly head out to his car. I have told my mother nothing except that we are going on a trip and I am leaving my car at her house.

We get away unnoticed and head to a hotel for the night at least. We need to come up with some sort of plan.


We spend the next few days at the hotel. The boys have fun in the pool. He plays with them and loves them. Just as a real father should. We order lots of room service and spoil ourselves. I only wish we were somewhere else.

My mind goes over all of the scenarios of what I can do to get out of this mess. All have the end result of the children being taken away from me. I can not let that happen. Even in the best scenario: I go to the police, they arrest him for abuse, he makes bail or serves his time, he comes back and hurts me and/or takes my kids away. Not going to happen.

I can not enjoy myself while we are here. My brain will not shut off.

“What well-behaved boys you have!” An older woman exclaims as she passes our table in the hotel restaurant. “Such a beautiful family!” She is smiling radiantly. “Congratulations.”

I can barely smile back at her let alone get a word out.

“Thank you,” he says, graciously and nods. As she moves away, he looks at me. “Is it wrong that that made my day?” He swallows hard.

“Are you our new Daddy?”

He looks at me to answer. Frankly, I am surprised this question hasn’t come up already.

“What would you think if that were true?” I ask, delicately.

A shrug. “It’d be OK, I guess. Our real Daddy has disappeared so I guess we could have a replacement Daddy.” Then a grin. “And I like you.”

I look to my oldest. He is smiling a little bit. I believe it is OK with him, too. And since my baby reaches for the man now more than he does for me, I am positive he doesn’t care either.

I leave it at that. They move on to another topic of conversation. Most of the time they aren’t asking a serious a question as they lead you to believe. I think back to when the baby was born.

I was holding him in my arms rocking him and my middle son was watching me. “Mommy, where do babies come from?”

I stopped rocking and held my breath. “Well, this one came from my tummy, remember?”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Like, what country do they come from?”

I giggle. “He comes from the same country as you. The United States of America.”

“Oh, OK. I just wanted to check. We are learning about different countries in my class.” And then he was on to a different topic.

Rocking resumed.

I smile faintly at the memory. Things seemed much easier back then. Why did it all have to become so horrifying and complicated?


“We could just run away,” I whisper. “Far away from here where he can’t hurt us.” Every night I throw out some new ideas. None have panned out.

I look at my boys, sleeping angelically, unaware that their father has gone completely mad.

“We could but he would probably go to the police and say you kidnapped them. Then there will be alerts out everywhere.”

He is right. We have nowhere to go.

We decide to go back home. We can’t hide forever.

Then I will kill him.