Page 3 of Down the Aisle
There was no hope for James and me, not after everything.
"Mama." Asher's voice pulled me out of my mental hole.
Then there was my son, my sunshine, my life. If it wasn't for him, I would still be James's punching bag. Becoming a mom really kicked my ass into gear when the prospect of Asher ending up like James plagued my mind. I mean, James used to be good, but given how things turned out and his interactions with Asher, I couldn't chance it. Thinking back to how James barely tended to Asher as an infant and how crude his goals were for him made my skin crawl and burn with an itch to slough off my body.
Shoving my thoughts away with a long sigh, I smiled at Asher as I got out of bed and picked him up. "Good morning, my little chunkers." I giggled, pinching his chubby little cheek.
Thankfully, today was an off day for me, so I could finally do some much-needed grocery shopping and cross out other choreson my never-ending list. I didn't know how much I'd get done today, but I had to try.
Being a single mom was a lot harder than I'd thought, but I'd gladly take the struggle of it for Asher's sake and mine. Even though I wanted to pull my hair out on more days than I could count, it was worth it in the end. I wasn't cooped up in a house twenty-four-seven, getting beaten every day, worrying about whether I would see the next day, nor did I walk around on eggshells.
Now, the only bruises on my body were from my clumsiness, not belts and fists. Well, that and occasionally from Asher, but not like my toddler could help it. I was mom, the love of his life… and human teething toy. There was also the random pinching here and there when he'd get bored and want attention, but he'd gotten better at not doing it.
If only he would learn to not grab my glasses anymore, that'd be great.
"Asher, stop," I sighed tiredly while leaning my head away from his grabby hands.
Cleaning baby prints off my glasses was next to impossible. I swear, his hands were coated in magical smudge or something that stuck to objects–like glue.
At least Asher was an easy kid overall. He was perfectly healthy, always hitting around the upper 90th percentile in his growth milestones, not a picky eater (seriously, if it was edible, then he ate it), listened as well as a toddler could, and was a smart little turd with a bright future ahead of him. The only complaint I had was his sleep; he rarely slept through the night because he was so used to nightly feedings. Granted, his habit was my fault because I always felt bad about him being hungry in the middle of the night and fed him. It was almost impossible to break the habit now, but since it wasn't detrimental to him, I just bit my tongue and kept it up.
Other than that, Asher was perfect. Just like now with going through our morning routine, he was perfectly content with me getting him ready for the day and feeding him before letting him play a little with what toys he had.
Sometimes, I wished I had more to give to Asher. Yeah, that was probably the cheesiest mom line ever, but it was the Gods-honest truth. Asher was so bright, smart, and friendly, and he deserved so much more than the meager life I could give him. I wanted to put him into daycare for socialization, just for a few hours a day, but I couldn't afford it. Same with more stimulating toys, they got too costly.
If I had a good-paying job, then I wouldn't really care much, but working as an on-demand housekeeper didn't necessarily bring in the dough. We weren't struggling, but I had to be conscious of my spending quite a bit. Even with the money I got a year ago to start our new lives, most of it was spent starting them while the rest sat locked up just in case—God forbid—something bad happened, and we had to start over elsewhere.
Well, at least we were in a decent spot, so I was more than grateful for our situation. We could be living paycheck to paycheck or really struggling to where I was insufficient, and thankfully, that wasn't the case. We also had a roof over our heads, lived in a decent area of the city, and I had a job which was flexible with my conditions.
Honestly, we had it good, in my opinion. It'd be better if I knew for a fact James wasn't after us still, but that was a little too much to ask for, given the good hand we were dealt.
Also, no complaining about anything now. Was this the dream? No, not really, but it was a hell of a lot better than what could have been.
Resetting myself with a deep breath and sigh, I stretched a smile on my face as I picked Asher up and gave him some kisses."Alright, my lil bun, we gotta go to the store for some milk and food."
I didn't know how much he understood, but he responded by smiling, giggling, and clapping his hands. Granted, he did it for half the things I told him, so it was hard to gauge whether he was comprehending or just reacting because he was amused.
After a few minutes to get my life somewhat together, I got us into the car and to the grocery store in one piece—the trip home might be a different story.
Slowly, I made my way down the aisles, mumbling to myself to keep my list at the forefront of my mind. "Alright… Snacks for me and Asher… Milk… A shit ton of milk…" Honestly, I don't know how, but my little chunkers went through nearly a gallon a day.
A restocking grocery run shouldn't take forty-five or so minutes, but I liked to take my sweet time whenever I was out with Asher to give him more fresh air and more stimulation with seeing new things. Actually, I'd be surprised if every inch of this place wasn't perfectly mapped out in his mind by now with how often we went. Pretty sure if he was more sentient then I could give him a list and he'd be able to find everything in this place with no problem.
Pulling myself away from my thoughts, I focused back on my babbling toddler who was blowing me sloppy kisses with giggles. "You are the sweetest lil chunk," I cooed with a wide smile.
Asher laughed at me before reaching out with grabby hands. Shaking my head with a smile, I gave him one of my hands to hold and play with. "Alright, alright, just don't gnaw my fingers off," I joked with a chuckle.
Carefully, I pushed the cart along with my other hand. "Let's see… Crackers?" I mumbled my thoughts aloud as I scanned the shelves with my eyes.
Damn it, not on sale.
"Sorry buddy, looks like the goldfish gotta wait until next time maybe," I apologized to Asher's confused face with a sad smile.
Shopping on a food stamp budget was never fun, but at least Asher wasn't aware enough to care or throw a fit about things yet.
Flashing him one more smile, I went back to looking at the shelves to see if there were any similar alternatives for my little chunkers.
I was so focused on checking prices and labels; I failed to notice Asher being a cheeky little turd until it was too late. As much as I loved my child's laughter and squeals, it was never a good thing when it was paired with him tipping over.
