Reflections from December 23, 2022
On Friday, I worked a half-day and came home early. I wanted to tidy up and get things ready for the holiday weekend. As soon as I arrived home, Autumn immediately asked about her presents. I was confused, as I hadn't realized she knew about them, so I asked, "What presents?"
She replied, "The ones in the car."
I explained that not all the gifts were hers, but she insisted they were, saying, "Dad already told me they're all mine and that I could have them now."
I gently but firmly repeated, "No, some are for your brother, and they're for Christmas—not right now. Please don't worry about it. You can talk to Dad when he gets home."
I walked away to cool down, kept busy, and got Austin distracted. After a bit, I gave all the kids a ten-minute warning for chores. Aurora and Maddie hadn't been feeling well, having stayed home sick, so I only asked them to tidy up their shoes and personal belongings in the living and dining rooms. They did this without complaint and then headed upstairs to clean their rooms.
Andrew helped me with the dining room, upstairs bathroom, hallway, and the younger boys' room. He was a huge help, whether by distracting Austin or running errands around the house. Afterward, I assisted Andrew and Maddie in finishing up their room, which mostly just needed sweeping.
Then I went downstairs and began cleaning the living room—moving couches, desks, and sweeping thoroughly, creating quite a big pile of dirt in the process.
Throughout all this, Autumn refused to help because she was upset about her gifts. When Nick finally arrived home, it was getting late, and I explained to him that Autumn hadn't done her chores and asked if he could have her help him finish cleaning.
At this point, I headed to the VFW up the street to meet my grandparents, as I usually do. Unfortunately, due to bad weather, my grandparents didn't make it, so I didn't drink much in order to give my aunt and her friend a ride home—something my grandmother Andrea usually handles. We all ended up leaving earlier than usual because of the weather and the upcoming holiday.
When I returned home, I was frustrated to find the cleaning still unfinished, and Nick sounded like he'd been drinking, which goes against my house rules. I greeted everyone briefly, then asked if they could watch TV upstairs because I wanted to finish cleaning and needed some space.
Autumn immediately pushed back, saying, "No."
I paused, giving her a stern look, and she argued that she didn't have a TV in her room. I responded, "You can use the little boys' room or Andy and Maddie's room."
She countered again, saying, "Dad was going to watch with us."
"Then Dad can go upstairs too," I said.
Autumn became even more defiant, saying, "There are three of us and only one of you—why should we have to move?"
Trying to stay calm despite my growing frustration, I said, "Because this is my room and my house, and I really want some quiet and space right now."
Autumn then snapped back, "This isn't your room. Most of your stuff is in the basement, so why don't you go down there?"
I firmly told her, "You absolutely cannot talk to me like that."
Finally, Nick intervened to back me up, but then questioned me, asking, "What's the big deal anyway? Why can't everyone just stay down here?"
After some back-and-forth, I admitted I was frustrated by his drinking. He tried insisting he'd only had one drink, but I doubted that. Autumn then escalated the situation, accusing me of acting just like her mom and demanding her phone back, claiming she needed it to call people.
I reminded her, "You're still grounded and haven't finished cleaning your room, so you haven't earned your phone back yet. You can use the house phone."
Nick became angry, insisting she could have her phone, and demanded to know where it was. Trying to remain calm, I took the phone from the drawer and placed it in my pocket. At this point, I asked Autumn to go upstairs, explaining that this conversation was between Nick and me, about our relationship—not about her.
Nick disagreed, saying, "No, Autumn can stay. I need her as my witness."
I reminded him, "There are cameras in the living and dining rooms. It's not okay to put a 13-year-old in the middle."
He kept pushing, becoming angrier, and I realized that no matter what I did, the situation wasn't going to de-escalate. I called my mom, asking if she could watch my four-year-old, Austin. After dressing him, I removed him from the stressful environment.
After dropping Austin off and briefly talking with my mom about the situation, I decided to go out again to spend some time with friends and calm myself down.
As I sat there reflecting on everything, I never imagined that this night would mark the end of our relationship. Nick had chosen alcohol over me and our family. I understood he was under immense stress—his ex, Mary, had always been abusive toward everyone, causing chaos in our home. But his drinking gradually escalated, becoming his primary way of coping. As his dependency grew, my feelings seemed to matter less and less to him.
Looking back, I often wish I had known how to handle things differently—how to fix the growing divide. But even now, I'm not sure I could have figured it out. At the time, DCF had become involved, and my greatest fear was losing my children. The pressure was overwhelming, and the stakes felt unbearably high.
This wasn’t the future I envisioned. Yet, here I am, still trying to heal, learn, and move forward, hoping that someday I'll fully understand the lessons from this painful chapter of my life.
