...he shows up 2.5 hours late for our "romantic" evening. He is drunk and angry at the world, angry at himself for being late. We exchange some words and he leaves.

And then I get a call from his friend saying that he got into a fight with a grocery store security guard and he's being taken to jail. I wish I could say that I'm surprised or that this is the first time. Sadly, these situations are now all too common in my life. I chose to marry and have children with a total fuck up. When we first met, he didn't even drink alcohol. He was a devout Muslim. We would spend hours hanging out and talking. Now, I only get glimpses of the man he used to be.

Want to hear a really fucked up story that I've been too ashamed to tell? I just have to get this off my chest. The day after Amina was born, I was in the hospital and my SO went home to pick up some stuff that we needed (mainly a carseat). Well, on his way back to the hospital, he got pulled over and ended up in a verbal altercation with the police. He insulted a cop's mom (which is the worst thing you can do in Mali) and he ended up spending 3 nights in jail.

I had imagined a nice family homecoming from the hospital and then spending tons of time as a family at home loving on the new baby. Instead, what happened? I had to leave the hospital in a taxi. No carseat. Carrying all of my hospital bags plus a newborn baby and Rokia was with us to go hail a taxi on the street.
Baby's first outing from the hospital? Jail. We went to see my SO on our way home so that I could get the house key from him. So imagine baby Amina, not even 2 days old, visiting a dirty Malian jail. And then I spent my first nights home with the baby totally alone. Trying to figure out everything by myself while also making sure Rokia eating well and getting to school.

Doesn't get much more fucked up than that.

Our problems go so beyond cultural at this point that I am not sure moving to America will solve anything. But it's our only hope now. But I am losing hope with every situation like this that comes up. I am so angry at myself knowing that my kids are probably going to have to grow up in a divorced home. I know it's better for kids to have happy divorced parents than miserable married parents. But that doesn't change the fact that I wish I hadn't have made some of the choices I made, even though those choices gave me two beautiful daughters.

He'll probably get out of jail tomorrow if we pay of the cops. But I've already bailed him out so many times and I'm sick of it. Sick of it and super broke because of it. But I need him to get out so that he can be here on Monday to watch the baby since I go back to work. He better not fuck that up too.

I know there's not much to comment on with this type of story. Don't feel like you have to. I just needed to write this down.