Category Archives: children

October 8, 2010 · 1:51 am

Conundrum (Part IV)

Conundrum (Part IV)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
10/7/10

I was happy my affair with my husband was over. He had returned to his mother’s house, his biological wife. He sprinkled the children with not enough time or money, but I had to allow his free will to ruin their relationship. There was nothing I could say to make him want to be a better father and at this point the only thing I cared about was being a good mother.

As my stomach took over my body, my outlook on life began to change. I made the decision that I wasn’t going to stress about my current circumstances, but embrace my pregnancy wholeheartedly. Because in all actuality, I handled my two other pregnancies without him. I could do this one too.

The good part about taking your life back, you begin to shed those that aren’t working in your favor. So the first to go was his new chick. It was her hypocrisy of stealing their father and then wanting to coddle them through the pain, that made me sever the matriarchal tyrant. And in the transformation of wife to single pregnant mother, I realized that less him, I still had a family.

It was our card night, our game night, our movie night cuddled up on the couch, that made my house a home, not who lived in it. If that was the case, Go Fish would have ceased, Memory would be forgotten, and we would disperse to our separate corners in his absence. But pairs were still drawn, matches were made, and laughter, tears and popcorn littered our couch. So instead of dwelling on who had left, I had to prepare my home for who was on their way.

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Filed under children, Conundrum, family, fiction, pregnancy

August 30, 2010 · 10:41 pm

Conundrum (Part III)

Conundrum (Part III)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
8/31/10

As a little girl, I always believed there was a happily ever after. The concept of spending forever with someone was perfectly logical. But some how life got in the way of me spending my life with my forever. So now the only life that existed for me would be spent alone raising three children.

I wasn’t going to share the news of my pregnancy with my husband. Instead I was going to allow myself the joy of telling him quite the opposite should he decide to care or ask. I really didn’t care how big my stomach got, I would lie to him as he so enjoyed doing to me. But the God in me wouldn’t allow me to join the devil, so I called him and said I was locked out of the house and needed his keys. Granted still a lie, but it was the only way I could guarantee he would come home. Funny I was so afraid to lose my forever, even when I was lying to get it to come home and see me.

Luckily it was a lie and I had my set of keys, because I would have gone the bathroom on myself waiting the 45 minutes it took him to get home. He arrived in the bedroom with a quizzical expression. I continued to paint my nails and with a stroke of the brush, shared my news. He punched a hole in the wall and left without a word. My tears didn’t break until I heard the front door close. I had promised myself the night he dropped me off to go to his mother’s, he would never see me cry for him again.

It’s not that it was my forever that was now lost, but this is not the forever I had promised my children. The moment the nurse placed my daughters in my arms, I promised them that their parents would give them the world. Not that I would give them the world, but we would give them the world. But now I truly had to wrap my mind around the concept that he wasn’t going to be here forever. I, solely, will be my children’s forever.

Days passed without return. The house no longer skipped a beat and I started to run my home as if he no longer lived with us. The third day he returned and searched the kitchen for his dinner plate. Because his forever consisted of dinner on the table or in the microwave waiting when he arrived. But like I said, in my mind, he no longer lived here. There were no leftovers. I cooked for three now…well four.

Work was grueling now. It wasn’t like my other pregnancies when I was working. I had to treat this job as the sole income for my family now. I already carried all of the benefits, but I really had to stretch each check to ensure it covered all expenses. As I came to realize, I was short $260 dollars. If I could come up with that, I could sustain our lifestyle. I took the money he gave me for bills and began to save. Little did he know he was being worked out of our lives.

As I returned home from work two nights after he discovered he was no longer going to be served dinner, my realization from weeks past came true. The girls and I ate. My oldest bathed my youngest, because bending and kneeling were just too cumbersome and painful now. She than took a shower. I read them a story and tucked them in. As I hunted for my bathrobe, I noticed the space in my closet. There was a small space on both the floor and the rack. He had taken his clothes and shoes. I quickly checked the drawers in the bureau, only to find the same emptiness. He was gone. My forever-their forever was gone.

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Filed under children, Conundrum, family, husband, love, marriage, parents, pregnancy, wife

July 23, 2010 · 8:31 pm

Conundrum (Part II)

Conundrum (Part II)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
7/23/10

I allowed the days to pass without sharing the news with my husband. Unfortunately at almost forty years-old he had not learned to have his own emotions. I had to look at how his mother felt towards me and that would pretty much dictate the person who walked through my door at the end of the day. So for now she wasn’t speaking to me or our daughters, luckily he was still speaking to our children.

He hadn’t returned any of my phone calls today, nor come home. I spent most of the night up with our two year-old daughter and finally just let her fall asleep in his spot. And in one of the moments that I watched her sleep, it hit me; I was about to raise these three children by myself. He wasn’t going to be here through this pregnancy. At that moment I knew I would never share my bed with my husband again. I had lost my husband to a woman that he was supposed to have left so he could cleave to me. I mean it’s in the Bible. They’re Christians. He was raised in the church and she claims to be involved in hers. So why were they not honoring the word of God?

I woke in the morning to the incessant chirping of my old alarm clock. My daughter slightly stirred, but settled back under the blanket. I rose with a sharp pain in my back and then it shot down my right leg. I stifled all movement and tried to turn so I could get back in the bed. Ouch! That was not about to happen. The pain was excruciating with even the slightest movement. I decided to call out to my husband in the hopes he was just downstairs on our couch after discovering our daughter in his spot.

By the time I had shouted his name the third time, my eight year-old came into the room. I conveyed the situation and before I could finish, she was swinging my legs onto the bed with the rest of me. As I was explaining, she simply pushed me back. My body was so rigid with pain I fell straight back. It’s amazing what children remember. She had to do the same thing when I was pregnant with her sister. And once again he was missing. I couldn’t do this to her again. I refused to allow her to take on his responsibilities. But as I tried to move, I cried out in pain.

Unfortunately, our oldest is well rehearsed in her father’s disappearance acts. She got her sister up and dressed and then herself. She prepared them cereal and made her lunch for school. In the meantime, I made a phone call to my girlfriend and their godmother, who came over and took them to school. As only a best friend could she promised her return, caretaking, and lecture. I guess you could say I fear God, my mother, and her. I guess her moreso than my mother because she knows everything.

I heard the door downstairs open and awaited her lecture. But to my surprise, my husband entered our bedroom dressed in the same clothes he left in yesterday. After inquiring about the kids whereabouts and why I was not at work, he got in the shower and then left. The one thing I was finding out about my crying for him, it wasn’t lasting so long and it didn’t hurt so much when he didn’t come home or left.

Not long after the tears subsided; the lecturer returned, rice cakes and sparkling water in hand. I really had to work on that with her. When we didn’t see each other for a while, she was never dieting. Now when I couldn’t move and needed comfort food, I crunched on salt flavored cardboard and sipped on fake soda. The lecture was redundant from his previous wrong doings. It all came down to, stay or leave. It’s my choice. To stay meant to accept who he was and that his mother came with the package. To leave meant I might lose her, but ultimately I was still tied to him through the kids.

I guess the one thing she did bring to my attention was the phrase, “actions speak louder than words”. She told me not to be fooled by those that can quote the Bible and go to church. Observe how they are living their so called Christian lives. Because ultimately their actions will speak louder than their words.

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Filed under children, Conundrum, fiction, friendship, God, husband, marriage, wife

July 20, 2010 · 4:46 pm

1,958 Miles

1,958 Miles
By: Mia L. Hazlett
7/20/10

To My Darling Daughters,

As of today my loves, we have spent a total of 26 solid days together, four of them traveling across the country. I must write to you and tell you both how much I love you. I’ve turned our lives upside down in the pursuit of the promised future I gave you both when you were each born.

I must start by telling you there are no two people that breath on this planet, that I could have spent four days, 1,958 miles with, in that un-airconditioned packed to the max van, while driving through our country’s hottest states. My darling Jazzy, the way you handled yourself when your sister spent the first two days carsick, brought tears to my eyes. Never a complaint uttered, you simply got the wipes and paper towels and cleaned your sister and took care of her comfort. You knew that pulling over was not an option since it was always when I was lost on the back roads of either Pennsylvania, West Virginia, or Virginia. And my baby Kaylee, you kept the love in the car the entire ride. When Mommy had us lost, hot, and hunting for food, bathrooms, gas, and hotels that allowed cats, your random “I love you Mommy”, reminded me why I was driving across the country.

The images I will always carry with me from that trip are, the opening of the hotel doors after unloading the last necessary bag from the car, to find you both standing in your bathing suits ready for the pool. You see after driving 8-10 hour days in a van with no A/C on maybe 6 hours of sleep; I was looking past the both of you to the bed. But because I promised swimming each night, off to the pool we went! I guess I will also remember bringing you to the pool the second night and Kaylee you threw up down the front of Mommy’s bathing suit. I had both of you crying in the elevator because we only had 15 minutes of pool time. I will always remember the look on that man’s face when the elevator doors opened and he hesitantly stepped on. I smiled and asked him what floor, as if the throw up came with the suit.

Know there were times of fear. Several times I thought for sure kitty wasn’t going to make it all the way to Houston. But by the divine grace of our Heavenly Father, she made it. Then there was our Monday drive, the scariest for me. I drove us from Virgina to Louisiana. My babies, I know I pushed you and I apologize. I gave us minimal breaks and my temper was short. Know that it was because I had pushed myself beyond my limits and by the time I actually started looking for hotels; I was physically and mentally exhausted. The hotels that I felt safe with, wouldn’t take cats and the ones that allowed pets, didn’t offer the sense of security I needed for us. And my darling Jazzy, by then you knew exactly what Mommy was looking for. You would tell me we were not staying at them before I could say anything. Understand by the time I saw the sign “New Orleans, 100 miles” I wanted to give up. I looked in my rear view and saw your faces and just called on the name of Jesus. I couldn’t even say a prayer at that point, but I know there is power in His name. I pushed through to New Orleans because I knew if I could just get us there and not find a hotel accepting of pets, your Auntie Jen would come and meet us. But like I said, there is power is His name, and He gave us the cushy Marriott 10 miles into New Orleans.

Knowing we were only six hours from our new start allowed us to really relax in New Orleans. Jazzy, your discipline amazes me. Each night we stopped at a hotel, it took me about three trips to unload the van. While I unloaded the van, you would hold school and you ensured you and Kaylee did your schoolwork. How blessed I am to have you.

I don’t know if you saw my tears when we saw the “Welcome to Texas” sign on that fourth day of driving, but know they were tears of joy. Tears of good-bye. Tears of a new start. Tears of we did it! Tears of we are blessed and highly favored. Tears of God promised, God confirmed, and God delivered us. My darling angels know that our God is an awesome God, because without Him we would not have arrived. We made it my beautiful young ladies. Welcome to Texas!

Love and God,

Mommy

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Filed under children, family, fear, God, love, parents, travel

March 23, 2010 · 1:50 pm

Taken (Part III)

Taken (Part III)
3/23/10
By: Mia L. Hazlett

I drove around the block and came back around to perfectly position the car in an alley down the street from The Spot. The Lottery Ticket appeared to still be knocked out. The last thing I was gonna deal with was some screamin’ kid. I was supposed to drop her off and be done. But I didn’t think that drink concoction would last much longer

The last cop car pulled off…maybe. But that van didn’t sit right in this neighborhood. I had never seen it before. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I needed to call Voz. He went back in the house about twenty minutes ago. I knew he saw me drive by, but I needed some sort of sign from him that I could make the drop. I decided to leave Lottery in the back and make my way to the little package store. I just needed some cigarettes and a chance to give Voz a call.

Voz didn’t answer the three times I tried. I walked around the corner, cigarette hanging from my mouth, drink shoved under my pit as I struggled to get my keys to the car. I took a couple more puffs before I got back into the car. I opened my nip of vodka and settled in for the wait.

FUCK! Where the fuck was Lottery? She was gone! Na, na, na. This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t in the store for more then like ten freakin’ minutes. She was freakin’ knocked out with the stuff. She hadn’t moved the whole damn time I drove. I started the car and decided to drive around to see if I could find her. She couldn’t have gotten that far bein’ small and drugged. She had to be be close. She fuckin’ had to be close. I slammed my hand on the steering wheel, all the while cursing The Ticket out.

I knew Voz said we couldn’t kill her until we got the money at The Drop. But what difference did it make? Now or later? These people weren’t about to get their kid back. Kev didn’t get his kid back, why should they? All I was sayin’ was I want to kill this kid. As soon as I found her, I was gonna break her little neck.

Finding her wasn’t looking good. I drove around the block lookin’ for her tiny little frame wrapped in a white sweater. Why didn’t I make her change into that outfit? She was going to stand out in her uniform in this neighborhood. Man I fucked up. I gotta find this kid. If I didn’t, both of us would catch a bullet.

After about forty-five minutes of nothing, my phone rang. Voz. Shit. “Yeah,” I answered.
“Bring it now,” he hung up.

I figured The Spot was safe if he was telling me to come. Two sets of eyes would be better than one. I pulled up to the house to pick him up, popped up the steps and was in the house within five minutes of Voz’s call.

“What are you doing? Where’s the kid? Why the hell are you parking in front of the damn house? Put the damn car in the back. Do you want to fuck this up?” Voz hammered out before I even got the door closed.
“Okay, there’s a problem. I lost the kid. I was…”
“Get out! GET THE HELL OUT!” Voz screamed.

I turned to leave, and then was jerked to the floor by my ponytail. Voz was on top of me with his glock between my eyes.

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Filed under children, fiction, kidnapping, Taken

October 19, 2007 · 5:11 pm

Precious Glory

Precious Glory
By: Mia L. Hazlett
Written: 4/27/07

It wasn’t her silence or her lifeless eyes that caught my attention. Nor was it her frail skeleton body frozen in the fetal position that tore my heart. It was the absence of her mother that brought me to tears. There were no hands to swat away the flies that danced around her eyes and crept along her weak body. Instead of a nipple leaking milk into her hungry mouth, a faint circle of dirt outlined her lips. Although my boss told me we were there only to take pictures, my God told me He had sent this child as a blessing, if not to her mother, than to this world.

Without taking a picture, I placed my camera on the ground next to the feces of some animal, and walked to the child. I knelt next to the tiny form and swatted away the buzzing insects. I removed my white linen shirt and spread it on the ground next to the tiny baby girl. Risking only disease and my job, I gently picked up God’s blessing and wrapped her in my shirt.

A small noise escaped from her lips and I kissed her forehead and whispered, “You’re welcome.” I’ve never been pregnant or even thought about it for that matter, but I will say I know how a mother feels the first time she holds her baby. I didn’t know how long I would have with this precious glory, but I knew I would not let her go until I absolutely had to.

I took her back to my tent under a small tree on the dead grass. In this third world country, I had no means to feed this child. There were no corner stores with overpriced formula, and I wasn’t at all eager to find the mother who had proven they didn’t want her. I took out a clean cloth from my backpack and soaked it with water. I placed it to her lips and gave a gently squeeze. The water leaked across my fingers and her mouth took on the natural sucking motion of a newborn as it latched onto the drenched cloth.

I don’t know why God brought me to Precious Glory’s side, but I can say she was held, kissed, fed, and loved before she died in my arms later that day.

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Filed under children, death, fiction, love, poverty