Mother’s-in-law

I’ve now had 2. And for some reason I have gotten 2 bum ones. The first was openly mean. I was clearly not her son’s intellectual equal. I was not smart enough to finish law school. I was evidentially too good of a cook because I was making her baby fat. She didn’t know what he saw in me. Why on earth would she want to go to a spa all day with me?

Needless to say I am not sad to be done with that woman. She was angry, hateful, sad, and resentful. Her first husband cheated on her and her second husband died quickly and very unexpectedly. So she had some issues.

The second is more interesting. I have not met her. We have exchanged some emails, but that is about it. R is not close with her based on some choices she’s made and nasty things she’s said to him. Part of me feels an obligation to get to know her. She is my new mother-in-law after all. But given the way she treats not just R but his children, I’m not sure the work would be worth it. Add to that, that since their divorce she seems to love R’s ex-wife, I’m feeling conflicted.

I understand that she is superficial and focused on appearances. This is an issue for me. I am 5’ 6.5” and weigh @#$%^% right now. My husband loves me for what and who I am, and claims he loves how I look too. (hmm…I’ll never believe that one.)  But now it seems we are going to see her in June. So I have 6 months to lose a bunch of weight so I can feel as though I am not a complete embarrassment. I could do 10 pounds a month for 6 months, right? I’d still be “heavy” but not as heavy as now. But do I want to let her have that kind of power over me? Does it matter whether or not she thinks I’m pretty? Do I want to leave the event knowing that she’s calling her daughter to discuss how “fat” I am and how they can’t believe he left the ex (who is quite thin) for this chunk-a-lunk?

I hate this anxiety about meeting someone. Someone who knows the details and has judged me accordingly. Who will judge me because of what a small minded person has told her. Not by what I am, who I am, how I live my life, how I treat people. But because of one choice I made that she does not agree with.

Blah to Yeah!

I have the cold rainy blahs.

I really don’t have anything to do at work. I am here and am pretending to work. There is simply nothing worse than screwing around all day trying to “look busy” when you have zip to do. My files are caught up. But I am here. We have a relaxed work environment so I could leave. But I don’t because my boss doesn’t believe in it. She will come by late, knowing I already left, and then send me a snarky email about how sorry she is that she missed me. I want to respond “You know I work until 4 or 4:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays so I can get home early for the kiddos! Seriously! Come by late on Monday or Wednesday and we can talk.

Add to that that I have no holiday spirit whatsoever. I am tired of money flowing out of the bank. I am tired of having to wrap everything. I am tired of pandering to my step kids who have now decided that they are setting up a “wrapping station” in their rooms. (Seriously?!? You’re not the only ones who need to wrap shit!) I am tired of having to come up with ideas for him, my parents, his kids, my sister, her boyfriend, all the pets, my work employees, his clients, and me. And I need to put up all the holiday “stuff” around the house because he “just isn’t into that.” But I get nagged about it. If it matters that much to you, do it your damned self.

And I’m doing ALL OF THIS knowing that I am going to screwed over again for Christmas on all but the gifts I bought for myself. All  I want is for someone to put some frickin thought into a gift. You know me pretty well…better than anyone actually…get me something that makes you think “WOW, she’ll love this!” And it DOESN’T come from a thrift store. I don’t want a cheap ass pair of plastic kiddie binoculars because my sister got some real ones for her birthday and you think it would be “funny.” I don’t want a popcorn bowl with Joe Buck’s signature on it because I HATE HIM.

So rather than continue to crab about a crappy holiday or the crappy gifts I’ll get in said holiday I should stop and count my blessings.

1.       I have a wonderful husband with a great sense of humor who I love more deeply than I ever thought possible.

2.       I have 3 step kids who are each uniquely wonderful.

3.       I have a good job, that pays very well that gives me flexibility that all jobs should have.

4.       I have wonderful friends who make my days richer, funnier, and just plain lovelier because they are in my life.

5.       I have parents who stay out of my business for the most part, but are there if I need them

6.       My sister is a star of happiness in my world.

7.       We have enough money, food, shelter, and comforts that show me daily (when I’m looking) that I shouldn’t complain about anything.

8.       I have my health. I might be overweight and slightly depressed, but I am healthier than most.

9.       We have 5 cars, 2 motorcycles, 5 bicycles, 2 power wheelchairs, and 2 scooters…more transportation than any family really needs and more than most have.

10.   I am not living a lie or living in the shadows any longer. My life is out there and I am proud of how I am living it.

11.   It is not snowy.

12.   I live in a wonderful country where I have the right to express myself anyway I want, can worship who and if I want, and can go where I want with little to no interference from the government.

That’s just 12. A dozen things off the top of my head that I am thankful for. A dozen blessings big and small. A dozen reasons to look out the window (even though it is gray and yucky) and perk up.

Baby Talk

Baby its cold outside

Baby baby baby

Be my baby tonight

Baby got back

Everything is baby. We’re back on the baby bandwagon at my house. My darling husband was baby nuts for months before we were married. Then it all stopped. Not only were we not going to have one now, we were not going to have one ever. End of story. Thank you and goodnight.

Now it’s back again. Baby talk. Isabella Violet if it’s a girl. Pierce Randall if it’s a boy. Bella and Pierce. Part of me thinks maybe twins so we can meet both of them!!

Another part of me is terrified.

Not just “wow what a change that would be to our lives” but horrifically, knee dropping, bone chilling, nauseatingly, numbingly terrified. Terrified.

Yes, I have all the typical nervousness that anyone looking at being a parent has. Will I be any good at it? What if the baby is ugly? What if the child turns into Charles Manson? What if I’m just not a good mom? What if I freak out and run away? What if R freaks out and runs away? What if we get a kid like N and his attitude? What if the child is handicapped? R already has one with special needs. I’m getting old, Downs is a possibility.  And now-a-days it seems every other kid born is autistic.

What if the child is like me and is fat and gets made fun of in school like I did? Is it right to have a child knowing that this is nearly an absolute certainty? I’m not sure I can handle that. I can’t handle the idea that a child of our blood might not be “normal.”

I’ve never wanted kids. Never. I’m more of a “kids are great, but I’m good without.”  I’ve never thought of myself on my deathbed regretting not having children. R is a kid guy though. After dropping the girls off at their mom’s he said “we need some full time kids in this house.” He wants them. He’s also almost 46 years old. I pointed out that he would have one at 18 and one at 8 weeks. Would he be ok with that? His response…”absolutely!” I’ve never seen myself in the “Mom” role. Auntie, yes. Mom, no way in hell.

But now I am faced with the decision again. The decision with a large contingent of people yelling “YES!!!” and my own inner voice whispering “Please dear God, no.”

My Secret

My Secret. It’s not really a secret, but it is. The people who need to know, do. The people who don’t need to know, don’t. It’s that easy. I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve told. 3. My sister, my best friend, and another close friend.  My husband knows…he’s part of it. His ex knows, his children know (she told them). Her friends, family, co-workers and everyone else she ever comes into contact with all know…she “had” to tell them.

My Secret. I keep it from everyone. There is no reason to talk about it, to bring it up, to discuss. I look bad. My husband looks bad. My family doesn’t know. Holiday’s create so much anxiety in me because I am fearful that the kids will tell My Secret.

I hate holiday’s because of My Secret.

In a split second life can change

My darling husband did something incredibly stupid. Sorry…stoopid. When we made the plans for his birthday trip in January he didn’t clear them with his ex. Turns out, she’s traveling at the same time we will be. So there is no one to watch the kids. And because it is our weekend and he hadn’t cleared the change with her, it falls on us to find care for them or we cancel our trip. We’re either out $800 or we’re spending another $2-300 for care because N is in a wheelchair and can’t do anything for himself. I’m going to have to spend another couple hundred dollars to care for a kid who hates me enough that he refused to come to our wedding. F that.

As I was sending a scathing email to my sister ranting about what an inconsiderate boob my husband is, I got another email.

And my whole outlook changed.

A nurse of one of the boys on N’s soccer team lost her husband today. Unexpectedly. He was in his mid 30’s. He had a heart attack on his way to work and was not found until some time later. He died. Alone. On the side of the road. Ever the conscientious guy, he made sure he was fully pulled over so as not to impede other drivers.

They had been married for 3 months.

About the same amount of time we have been married. We were the only ones of the “soccer family” who were excluded from their wedding. But whatever. She lost her husband of only 3 months. 

With the medical problems R has been having I have been worried about losing him. I have considered what life would be like without him. To lose him after just a few months…minutes really, of our lives together. I would be devastated. I don’t know how I would go on. I don’t know how I would be able to put one foot in front of the other and continue to move forward in life. I fear I would become a recluse. Never leaving my bed. Never fully returning to the “real world” because my whole world would be gone.

And add to that that I would probably never see the kids again. Never. It would be funeral, and then their Mom would probably come over to take what was “theirs” from the house, and I would never see them again. As much as I complain about them, it would be hard to lose them too.

Suddenly his screw up with the ex seemed much less significant. And while I’m still angry about it my focus has changed. At least I have him. At least he’s not gone. He will be there when I get home.

When Nancy get’s home, Jim will be gone.

He won’t return.

He won’t walk in the door.

He won’t irritate her.

He won’t do or say things that drive her crazy.

And she’ll bargain with God, offering up her right arm and both legs to get him back for 3 minutes.

Did they say “I love you” when they separated this morning?

Did they kiss goodbye?

Did they make love this morning or last night?

Did they make that loving connection that she can carry with her?

Or did they argue? Did she nag him about forgetting to pick up milk yesterday? Did she “say no” out of sheer irritation or exhaustion? Did he say something nasty? Did he ride her because his shirt was not ironed or favorite pants not washed? Did they argue about how much they were spending on holiday gifts?  I hope not.

I hope their last moments together were loving. Expressing their love for each other and how desperately they wanted to stay together in that moment, but couldn’t because they had to go to work. I hope it was a moment that will allow her to hold the memory close in the years to come. That she’ll be able to hang onto the details of the moment. How did his shirt feel under her hands. His lips on hers. His bearded cheek on her soft one. The strength of his arms circling her.

Now I think of Jim. He died alone. Alone on the side of the highway watching people drive by. No one stopping. Did he think of Nancy? Did he replay their parting this morning in his head? Did he try to call her to tell her one last time that he loved her? Did he call 911? Could he have been saved if just one Good Samaritan had stopped to render aid? Would he now be in a hospital bed instead of the morgue if someone had? Was it quick and painless or did he suffer? This gentle man who attempted to cause as little suffering to others as possible.

Thank you God for letting me keep my husband for another day. I promise I won’t take it for granted. Please God give Nancy relief from her suffering sooner rather than later. Please God accept Jim into Heaven with you. He was a good guy and from my view he deserves it (but You’re in charge of who You let into Your house.) Please help Nancy. Fill her with love and memories and not sorrow and anger for the future they planned but will not exist. Fill her with hope and not longing. Please help bring her sunny personality back. Please watch over her. Amen.

I hate soccer

N plays soccer. He’s a rude, disrespectful, hateful, entitled, angry 17 year old who has no friends for a reason. He’s in a wheelchair with a degenerative muscle disease and he’s pissed at the world because of it. He hates “walkers” and thinks able bodied people are “lazy.” Add to all of this that he is not a smart kid either and you have a huge ball of stupid, ignorant, self-loathing, anger that lashes out at everyone in fear of being hurt again by other people.

One of the few things he gets any “joy” from is playing soccer. His team is quite good (despite his obvious distain for the team, his lackadaisical manner on the court, and refusal to learn plays).  He plays goalie most of the time and (by his own admission) he get’s lucky and makes some really great saves. 

Soccer is every Saturday morning, but sometimes we have tournaments. The team must play a certain number of tournaments to play in the conference cup. Last weekend we had one and this weekend we had one with the same teams. The team is good and the local teams (within 500 miles) are not so good. Our guys have their faculties and most can move their heads to see behind them. Other teams have players who are so physically disabled that it seems they can barely comprehend what is happening around them much less challenge a team with a  US Para-Olympian.

So we pound them.

And pound them.

And pound them.

But this need to win by as many goals as possible by the coach and players against obviously inferior teams is not why I hate soccer.

I hate soccer because of the other families.

The families are cliquey. Well, not so much cliquey as they exclude R and I because R’s ex made sure that they all knew that he left her for me. But that is another post. So they ignore me, turn away from me, scoot over if I sit near them. It brings flashbacks of middle school. “You can’t sit there, it’s saved. Saved. Saved. Saved.”

I hate the feeling it gives me. Like I’m worthless. I don’t know why I feel this way. Why I let them make me feel this way. But I am a people pleaser. Most of the time I don’t care what people think of me or what I do. But I don’t generally have much to worry about. I’m a nice person (for the most part), who is happy and gets along with most people. So when I enter into a situation where people don’t just ignore me but actively dislike me I have an issue.

I feel like I’m in the spotlight and judged both on the things I’ve done and those I have not done. Those things that were made up and created in a small minded person’s head. I try to be nice. I try to take the high road.  But it still makes me feel like that fat gawky middle school girl who has no friends and just wants to be accepted, not disdained and ignored.

Someone suggested as I was lamenting my lack of friends in this circle and the active dislike, that I be an even bigger version of myself. That I act happier, joyfuler (hmm..not a word), friendlier than I already do. Make sure that everyone knows the awesome rock star I am, and not the gawky kid I was that still comes out to play every now and then. But I am not that “in your face” person. I am who I am. I can’t hide that I’m hurt by their behavior.

Adrift

I feel adrift.
disconnected.
alone.

I often wonder why I feel this way. This is not the first time this incredible loneliness has swept over me.

Normally it is devastating.

The disconnection creates holes in my universe. It creates schisms in my world. Permanent separations.

I'm afraid.

The last time I felt this way I lost my job and my relationship fell apart.

How do I focus back on the connections? How do I rebuild those in my mind?

Because they ARE there. I just choose not to look at them. I choose not to see the people around me. I isolate myself.

From my family.
Friends.
Co-workers.
Everyone.

I need a change I think to myself. A change of scenery. A job change. A life change. A home in Honduras. A place in Paris. A chateau in Copenhagen. A radical change. Shaving my head. Something big...

to feel again.
To feel anything but loneliness again.

I have no right to feel this way. I have everything I have always wanted. A wonderful husband who I fought for, for 6 years. A great job at a wonderful company. A gaggle of friends. Wonderful (if not kooky) family. A birthday trip coming up. Holidays. Money enough to buy presents for everyone.

I have everything.
And nothing all at once.

He did WHAT?!?!?

My friend has a blog.

She started it a while ago and told me where it was. I don't know if she knows I still check it.

She started it when thing with them were good. She moved 1000 miles away to be with him. He was "perfect." Only once she got there she realized that he wasn't perfect. He had anger issues. He's yell. Flip out. Spew hatefulness and venom at the drop of a hat with no notice. Then he'd make a grand gesture to keep her around. They were not married.

After 18 months (1 year of living together) and she decided she couldn't take it any longer and she left. It was hard for her because the venom was even worse as she was moving. Now she's safe. She's moved to another state so she is away from it all. She is healing.

I still read her blog.

Does she know? Probably not. I'm not a registered follower.

She wrote a story about a situation similar to hers. But in it he hit her.

HIT HER!

She never told us this. I wonder...was it her he hit or was it his ex? She left him too. Dear God, please let the whole thing be made up. Now I wonder...do I ask her about this? Do I call her and admit to being a blog stalker and ask her? Would I want her to ask me?

Why do men have to hit? Why? Does it really make them feel like "men"? It disgusts me. I believe all men who hit women should be beat to death with a baseball bat. I'm disgusted. AND...

I'm so sad.

Hello November

November is here, but not yet in full swing.

My home normally gets very cold and snowy, but so far temps are still mild and as I look out the nearest window at work I can still see trees with leaves of every color in the autumnal rainbow. Brown, tan, green, yellow, orange, red. Not the bright hues that were so prevalent a few weeks ago, but a more muted and sedated palate. Almost as if the trees themselves know that they should have shed their leaves weeks ago, but hung on to them anyway. As though they too are just not ready for winter to come howling in as it typically does.

This year is the first time that I REALLY have felt a longing to move away to somewhere warm. I found a wonderful little home in Honduras. Right on the beach. 2 bedrooms for when the kids come to visit. I can dream.

Weekend with the kids is coming up, and that always fills me with excitement and disappointment. We do have fun with the kids when they come (normally) but there is so much bickering. I also hate that they come in and ruin the quiet cozy little life R and I have created. I like laying in bed talking and doing nothing on a Saturday morning. I enjoy going out dancing and coming home at 2 am. I like being able to just relax and do nothing if we choose, or go out and run errands all day without anyone saying “I’m bored” “This sucks” “Can I have X” “I’m hungry for Y”

But that was part of the package deal I married. I married him knowing what came with him. I got a readymade family. I got added responsibilities. I got $$ drains. A lies every chance she gets, N is disrespectful and rude, but M…M makes it all worthwhile.

M wears her heart on her sleeve. She is kind and generous. She is not the brightest bulb, and she forgets nearly everything, but she sees the best in people and really cares about how she makes people feel.  I’d have 10 of her if I could.

So I want to run away with R. M can visit. How bad would that be really?

Boo!

It is the Friday before Halloween and we're going to chaperon the girl's first dance tonight. 6th graders have their dance from 3:15 to 5:15. So cute that it isn't even at night.

Of course this small thing cannot happen without significant controversy. The ex didn't know about the dance so of course it caused a HUGE issue. We can't chaperon the dance. That is not acceptable. It's HER day. We can't see the girls that night. We just want to take them from her that night. She can't believe we would do this without getting her approval.

From what I understand she considers herself the "school and medical" person of what they used to be.  He is of the opinion though that he does more with "school and medical" than she does and she knows it. I see him taking all the kids to the dentist and N to his medical appointments. He goes to conferences, soccer games, basketball games, everything. But she still seems to think that he is a useless piece of crap who can't do anything.

So it will be interesting to see if (now that she knows) whether she'll be at the dance. I think she will be. But since she has to work until 4:30 or so, who knows. But I think she'll be there. Which will totally ruin it. She can't let us do anything alone that might give us memories with the girls that she can't taint or be apart of somehow. It is so hard.

Who are you? And who the hell am I??

We're 2 months back from our honeymoon and you would think we were different people. We speak different languages all of a sudden. He's speaking Chinese and I'm speaking Ancient Greek. I'm sure of it!

For 6+ years we've had no problem communicating. And suddenly we've gotten to where we wanted to be and BANG! We can't talk any more without really pissing off the other person.  A small conversation turns into a battle of Biblical proportions. We never had fights (beyond one major one) while we were dating. I just don't know what to do next.

Top that with trouble at work and my life feels like a chaotic mess. Some days I just feel like I can't do it any more.

Irresponsible, uncaring, selfish, Bword...I guess that's how you see me

Those were all terms that the ex called me last night.  She dropped the girls off last night at our house. This NEVER HAPPENS. We always pick up and drop off. ALWAYS.  There is a reason for this. The boy is handicapped and needs a handicap van. So the van goes with the kids. But it is a real pain for everyone on our end and she just gets to sit there and enjoy the ride.

But I digress.

Hubby and the boy were at the movies, having taken the day off of school after a medical appointment. The ex was dropping the girls off. I was taking the girls to the movies for the second of a double feature for the boys. So far no issue. But I got held up at work and I lost track of time.

I was late.

She was early.

Chaos ensued. Well, for a normal, rational person it wouldn't have. But for the ex it did. The girls are 12 and know the garage code to get into the house. They stay home alone all the time. No problem. She didn't leave though. She waited.
and waited
and waited

and got angrier and angrier and angrier as she waited.

When I got home I was ambushed and called every name under the sun. I stood there and listened and let her rant. I let her yell and scream and call me names. Thank God it is cold and the neighbors had their windows closed and were inside. Then again it would have been a good show for them. When she was finally finished she asked if I had anything to say for myself. In a very calm and caring voice I said, "I'm sorry." Then I turned around and walked into the house.

She continued to yell and call me names.
I continued to walk.

The girls were sitting on the couch texting their friends. They missed the whole thing. Part of me is happy about this. No kid should see their parent completely flying off the handle. BUT another part of me wishes they had seen and heard everything. Wishes they had seen the crazy we deal with every day that they don't believe exists.

But that...THAT...is the irresponsible, uncaring, selfish thing. So I remain happy that I was the adult (to her 10 years my senior) and I was the calm one and that I responded the way I did and walked away. The high road sucks. I hate the high road.  It is the hard path, the place without instant gratification, where you don't get to say exactly what you think while you're thinking it.

But it is not the weak place. Had the girls seen it all, they would have seen me responding in kind to their mother, who will never do wrong in their eyes. Who will always be Number One. And I would have been the bad guy regardless of what a rational person might have done in a similar situation.

Instead I acted as though they were watching. I took the high road. I apologized and left without calling names or saying hurtful things. And if they did see me, I am proud of the way I acted and I hope they choose to mirror my actions and not hers. Hope.

Another day. Thankfully

Today I woke up hearing someone on the radio saying "If this was my last day on earth, would I want to spend it this way?"

Made me think. It also made me stop "saying no" to my husband that morning. Would I really want to look down from the pearly gates and think, "Man why didn't I just give in and say yes even though I was really not all that in the mood?" Noper.

It has made me think, what am I doing in life that would make me disappointed if I spent the last day of my life doing it? Work (obviously) but beyond that, I can't think of much. If today was my last day, it wouldn't be too bad. Time with hubby this morning, work, lunch on a patio enjoying one of the last 80 degree days, work (kinda), home, dinner with kids, night with hubby. That's not such a bad life.

screen free dinners

The girls got cell phones for their birthday. As a result we had to institute "screen free" times. Specifically dinner. No cell phones at dinner. It seemed easy, but of course one of them had to break the rules. Having set no consequences in place, we were kind of stuck when one was texting under the table.

Really?? You think I can't see you just because you're doing it under the table? Oh, wait...that's probably what the cop would say when I'm caught texting and driving. Hmm...  (and a caveat here, I only do this when I'm in the car alone. With the kids I wait...that cargo is too precious to take silly risks with.)

Anyway, screen free dinners started last night and we'll see how it goes. Since they cannot be trusted to leave the phones in the living room (it was in a pocket on the way to the table and then under the table for texting), they will have to keep them on the table.

What I don't like is that Dad is just not as on board with this as I would like. He's not a disciplinarian (which is why his kids are disrespectful) and I simply will not put up with it. I know I'm not their mom, but I will not tolerate them being disrespectful to me or him while they are with us. It is an uphill battle. I wish I could talk to other step-mom's in the same situation and find out what THEY do. It makes me feel like the "evil step-mom" I'm trying hard not to be.

Sigh.

hospital scare

Hubby was admitted into the hospital last week. Massive pulmonary embolism. I wasn't real sure what this meant, but I now know that it is a blockage of the main artery that goes into the lungs. He also had blockage down both lungs. The doctors were surprised that he was still alive. I thought he was going to die. I thought I was going to be a widow after just 90 days of wedded bliss.

Thankfully, he's ok. He'll be on medication the rest of his life, but hopefully we won't have to go through this again. I was so scared.

no kids this weekend

which is good because I need some sleep. I want DH to wisk me away to a small cabin on a lake with no TV where we can just relax and rejuvenate.

But that won't happen. Not because he's not wonderful like that, but because we just have too much going on.

Conversation with him last night regarding a baby was good. Told him about my dream and we decided to discuss it again at the end of the year. If we're both in a place of "a baby would be great, but not having one would be fine too" we'll go off the pill and just see what happens. We won't "try" to force it, but we'll just keep on keeping on and see if the Universe gives us a baby. If it does, GREAT. If not, well we tried and it's ok.

I feel good about this.

Baby no baby

For the past 6-9 months he has been wanting (no begging) for a baby. Wanting one with me, not jus this ex.
I've never been a baby girl.
Never got baby fever.
Kids were not by bag, baby.

But he convinced me.
On our honeymoon I accidentally forgot my pills. Nothing happened, but I hoped. And I was sad when it didn't happen.

Now, last night, he says he's come to like the life we have. Able to leave at a moments notice and go anywhere and do anything. That a baby just wouldn't be a good idea. Sure. Now that you've convinced me, you don't want it any more.

I had a dream last night. It was our son, Pierce (yeah, we'd already picked out a name.)

He came to say goodbye to me. Telling me that he was going to go be with another family. That the decision had been made. We were not going to be together. He had the opportunity to go live with another family. He was going to take it. He knew he'd be happy and well cared for. That he'd be loved. That he loved me and had hoped we would be together but it wasn't going to happen. Then he hugged me and left.

I woke up crying.

How did this woman come to be? How did she suddenly inhabit my body? How did this desire for a baby come about?

And why...as soon as I was ready for it...did he change his mind?

New love

A friend of mine is finding new love.  She had bad old love. Very bad. Abusive. He was awful.

Now someone has come back into her life to potentially give her new love. I love this for her. She deserves it.

I hope it goes better with this one than with the last. I don't know if it will. She blames the falling apart of all her relationships on the other person. What is the common denominator though? It her.

Which makes me look at myself and see what I can change to ensure success in the future.
What is it that I do that causes me to be less successful at something?
What can I change?
How can I ensure that I am not the common denominator?
How can I embrace the change that I need to make?

Everybody's working for the weekend

Yeah, me too. Trying to pound out work so this weekend is a quiet one work wise. We have the kiddos so anything could happen. I have breakfast plans with girlfriends on Saturday and I can't wait. It will be good to see them and refresh my soul.

I'm concerned though that because it is during N's soccer practice time, I'm going to be asked to take A&M with me. That kind of defeats the whole purpose of getting away for breakfast. I need to focus on worrying about what I can change and not stressing over what I cannot change.

R and I have been talking about marriage for a while. No ring yet, but we've come to an agreement on a date, 8/17/11. I found some nice dresses online that are "appropriate" for a second wedding. They are more suits than a traditional wedding dress. Of the 5 I've ordered I've received 3 and liked 2 of those. Not "OhmygodthisisitIcan'tbelieveit!!!!"  But more of a "This is a nice dress at a great price and I could see myself getting married in it."

R says whatever I want is fine. Big and poofy or sleek and smart, he doesn't care as long as I am happy with it. That is good.

Honesty...

You ask to stay overnight more, but then we hear you are crying because you are feeling bullied and pressured to do so.

You say nasty things, and then we hear you are being emotionally blackmailed when we tell you how that makes us feel.

We tell you we only want you to be happy, but we hear that you hate and fear us.

We bought a house that has room for all of you, and we hear you don't want to come over.

She doesn’t go to Mommy and Me with you because she has a date, but I’m the monster.

Your Mom tells you that Dad was “too busy” to take you to the Daddy & Daughter dance, but we were never told when it was and he was crushed when he found out it had passed.

I hate their mother. Sometimes I hate the kids too. And sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder “Why am I putting up with this crap? Is he really worth it?”

And I answer, “No.”

Pre-Mother's Day Weekend

As the stepmom (and not even that since we are not yet married) do I get props for Mother’s Day? My theory is this year, no because I am not their stepmom yet. Next year, yes. Regardless R is planning on celebrating Mom’s Day for me on Sunday. This should be very interesting. His ex is going away for the weekend with her new BF and doesn’t want them for Mom’s Day weekend. Odd in my book, but whatever. It’s her day and she should be able to spend it as she chooses, with or without her kids.

Regardless we will be seeing her that weekend, because as “luck” would have it the same town the ex and her BF are going to is the same town that there is a soccer tourney in. So she’ll be coming for that. Yippee. :p

I am curious about how she will react when the kids tell her that they celebrated Mom’s day for me? I think she’ll be livid. R would be livid if they spend Dad’s day with her BF and celebrated for him. Then again, he’s already said that that will NEVER happen. But if she doesn’t want them, then what are we supposed to do? Be jerks and say “Parenting plan says your weekend. Guess you’re going to have to cancel your plans. Sorry b!tch!”  Of course not. We’ll be nice and take them. Her holiday her choice on how she wants to celebrate.

My guess is that she’ll definitely have them next year because she will never let this happen again. So I will enjoy it. And next year I am sure I will miss it. But that’s ok…I’ll have had one. J

Nice Quiet Evening

It's a nice quiet evening at my house tonight. Kids are here for the weekend and we're watching Harry Potter Part 1 with a fire going in the fire place. Super "family" feel.  Hopeful that the weekend goes well. This will be the first time the kiddos meet my family. I hope Easter goes well.

What's the point?

Kiddos last night and I was seriously asking myself, "What's the point of these visits?" R spent the majority of the time in the yard. A and N spent the evening watching TV, and M was on the computer. When does quality time turn into just quantity time? We have them for 3.5-4 hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I wonder what the point of it is.

So we spent time with them. If it is not quality time that what is the point? To me it seems almost more disruptive than not seeing them at all. But who knows…maybe they are getting more out of it than I can tell.

Of course we can’t amend the visitation schedule to one week on and one week off because that would mean that the ex wouldn’t get any money. And that is her admitted only reason for wanting the kids at all. But to me this schedule they have created is worthless if what R wants is some real quality time with his kids. But it is not my problem. It is his problem long term.

Punishment

Punishment is an interesting thing. On Monday we had the kiddos and N started trying to “educate” everyone and his sisters (who are 5 years younger) corrected him. He got angry and started yelling about how “normals” hated him and he hated all of us. R shut him down and sent him to his room for the rest of the night. N is 16 and is still being sent to his room. I just sat there and watched.

It is interesting watching R and N interact. Sometimes it is great, most of the time it is not. N gets on R’s nerves instantly. I understand that it is because of 16 years of N being a difficult and demanding kid. And he is. Nothing is ever good enough. Would you like chips with your sandwich? Elicit a response of “What kind!” in a nasty tone. So between N’s nasty tone and sense of entitlement and R’s childhood where he would never dream of responding like that because he would have gotten hit with a belt, it is an interesting sociological situation. Does one drive the other? Can they ever get past these feelings?

And what is my role in all of this? When do I say to R “I think you’ve gone a little too far” and when do I say to N “Don’t you see that when you do X you get Y reaction out of your Dad. And you still do X thinking that you’re right and he’s wrong and you still get punished. As long as you do X you will continue to get punished.” 

Part of me is of the opinion that I have 2 years left to live with this awful dynamic and then he’ll be 18 and won’t come over any more.  But I know that this is not going to be the case. His mom won’t want him at home so he will continue to be schlepped over to our house even though he doesn’t want to come over and R doesn’t really want him either. The “service” dog doesn’t help the situation.

I have never seen such an untrained animal. He jumps onto the counters to get to our food, digs in the garbage can, eats the cat food, eats the cat’s poo, and does everything he can to get at food and eat it.  R hates the service dog. Mainly because we can’t determine who is getting the service; us or him. But as long as the ex has the power, she will ensure that we are saddled with that damn dog and that N will continue to visit.

So how do I try to repair that relationship? Do I try to repair that relationship? Is it my responsibility or R’s? Ugg…

Nice...really nice

“What do you mean she doesn’t want the kids for Mother’s day weekend?”

Mother’s Day weekend is the same weekend as the soccer tournament in Duluth. The ex is heading up there with her new boyfriend Tom…evidentially for the weekend. We were surprised to see that the tournament was the same weekend as Mom’s Day and R sent her an email apologizing because it was her weekend and we approved the tournament. She shot back that she was busy that weekend, she had plans, and she was NOT going to switch. R reminded her that he wasn’t switching, just abiding by the divorce decree because it was Mother’s Day weekend. She responded that she had plans and was not going to change them. She’d celebrate with cake when we dropped them off late Sunday.

Wow. I always assumed that Mom’s lived for Mother’s Day weekend. This is the big weekend to thank, pamper, etc. mom. And you DON’T want to see your kids? Really?!?

I simply don’t understand.

Yeee-ouch!

A&M are having a sleepover this weekend as a thank you for all the hard work they did. N has a soccer tournament Saturday morning so I offered to take the girls to see Soul Surfer, a movie they wanted to see.  When R offered it up to them they said, “No, we want to go to soccer because Tom will be there!” Tom is the ex’s new love.  It’s not that they want to go see soccer or that he’ll be there and they want to see him that hurts so much, but that I KNOW that they will never say that about me. they will never say to Tom (or anyone else) “No we don’t want to go do something with you, because Jen will be someplace else we could go.”

It killed me. I’m glad he’s a good guy and that the kids like him. I’m just worried that they will start to like him more than their Dad, and that Dad will then get swept aside. That will kill him. Regardless their comment made me think, “Why am I investing so much of myself into these people who barely even acknowledge my existence?” I’m tired of the bitchy comments. And they are 11! It’s only going to get worse. Sorry R, I can’t just turn it off and not let it affect me. I don’t even want to see them.

I am wishing away then next 7 years because by then the girls will be 18 and will not be our problem and N will be dead.  

I know…I’m evil. But right now, I just don't care.

It's been a while...

It’s been a while since I blogged because we finally closed! Yea!  Kids love the new place and were a huge help in moving things in. We are now totally moved in and resolving all the little gremlins that come up with a move into a new home.

We’ve got a soccer tournament coming up for N on May 7. We’ve got the kids that weekend and confirmed that we’d be bringing N for that. Then the ex piped up that she would be coming with her new boyfriend. Finally we “know” about him. We’ve known for weeks that she had a boyfriend and that he had met the kids and the kids seem to like him. That’s great!

But of course it was a super secret until now. “Don’t tell Dad and J!!” Just another way for her to control them and what they do. She controls what they say in her house (can’t talk about Dad, definitely not me(!) and not about the new house. Unless of course she starts asking about it.) The control issues there are enormous.

Soooo different from our house. Talk about what you want to talk about. Tell your mom what you want to tell her. We don’t have any secrets that you can’t tell her. So why are we the bad guys all the time? I’m so tired of them coming over and having an attitude. It takes days to get through it and then they are gone and we have to start all over again a few days later. I wonder if they are the same way at their Mom’s house? Who knows…



Still no house

We still have not closed on the house (thanks a lot mortgage company) so we’re still living in limbo. The kids think we were making it all up. But the mortgage company, et al. say Thursday is the big day. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Girls only tonight. The ex’s car is in the shop so she needs the van (that travels with the kids) to get around. So we will only have A&M tonight. It will be a nice change, but I didn’t say that to R. Since he got on my case so hard about not ragging on the kids when we were furniture shopping I’ve been very careful about what I say about them. I am hopeful that her car is broken for a while, but I am sure it will be fixed by this weekend. Although it would be helpful for the move, not having N around during it (and complaining the whole time) would be better.

Does thinking that one of the kids not being around is better make me a bad step-mom? Sometimes I wonder. I read that I don’t need to love them. I don’t even need to like them. I just need to be a good role model and love their Dad. But WOW do I sometimes not like them at all. 

Wonderful Website

http://www.scarymommy.com/confessions/

A must to check out.

Oh dear

We were supposed to close on Friday. R had the kiddos, they were ready and excited to move, we were packed, and then…nothing. No closing. And we were told that this is “normal.” Thanks for nothing Waterstone Mortgage. :p I would never recommend that anyone use them…EVER. Our mortgage had not been completed because the underwriter felt “pressured.” Really?!? Because you all have had the information for 4 weeks now! It’s not our fault that the mortgage company did not get the underwriter the information they needed early, but we are the ones who ended up having to suffer and loose an entire weekend to paint and move.

So that changed the weekend a bit. Rather than moving and painting we were suddenly faced with an unplanned weekend. But no matter; dinner out Friday night to soothe everyone’s nerves, soccer on Saturday, then we went to the movies. Girls and I saw “Gnomeo and Juliet.” It was really cute. I highly recommend it. The girls are 11 and probably a little too old for it, but they still enjoyed it. Then we did a bit of shopping while the boy’s finished their movie. Sunday we had to go grocery shopping before breakfast and we got pretty creative in cooking things throughout the day.

Did you know you can make perfectly shaped Tollhouse cookies in a muffin pan? Sure can! Cinnamon rolls from a tube work well in a muffin pan too! Who’d a thunk it?

Then R took all 3 kids to the club to swim and hang by the indoor pool. I stayed home feigning illness and took a nap and read my book. I would have liked to work out and sit in the sauna, but going with the kids means putting my workout plans on hold to watch his kids while he works out. That was not what I was interested in doing. So I stayed home which worked out just fine.

We ended up taking the kids to their Mom’s Sunday night rather than keep them straight through until Tuesday. We just don’t have the room with boxes, etc. So now we are back on waiting to hear from the mortgage company about our new closing time at 4 pm today. Fingers crossed.

N made a curious comment at dinner last night. He said to the girls, “You should go shopping with Jen and she can buy you everything you want.” Curious. I didn’t say anything because I was not real sure what to say. For some reason they have the impression that I am loaded. I know where this impression comes from: their Mother. She is under the impression that I am loaded, which is faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar from the truth. But where does she get off talking to them about this?

Doesn’t she understand that I have NO FINANCIAL OBLIGATION TO THESE KIDS AT ALL?? They are her kids and his kids. Not mine. They seem to be under the impression that I have some kind of obligation to buy them things. (Which is one whole blog topic in and of itself!) It makes me wonder if other step-something’s have this feeling too. Do you feel pressured to purchase things for your step-kids? Buy lunch or dinner? Treat them to something? We don’t co-mingle funds, so it’s not like it is “our” money I am spending. So what do you do? I bought the girls headbands when we went shopping. I bought N a movie when we got our new TV setup at Best Buy. In the end it bothers me that they have this expectation that I should buy them things.

Can 11 year olds “work you”? Can you be played by them? Sometimes I wonder.

another weekend ahead

House stuff is going along very well and we finally told and showed the kids the new place last Sunday. They were pretty excited about it. Girls picked out their room’s, kids all explored the place, exclaimed it “Huge!” and ran off to find something new.  Girls asked if they could have a sleep over. N was pretty excited about just having some privacy. Life is great.

This weekend they are with their Mom which is sad for us. We really miss them when they are gone. I feel a little schizo at times, but I am pretty sure that is natural. We didn’t get to see them on Thursday because A&M had a mommy and me craft with Girl Scouts. Makes sense that their mom would take them to that. R had asked if they wanted to spend more overnights with us during the summer. They said “Yes!”

The next morning we got a text stating that the girls had burst into tears because he wanted to spend time with them and they don’t want to spend any more time with him than they already do. That he should stop bullying them. They know they “have to” come see him and isn’t that enough for him?

Wow. Such a different response from what we got. Why is that? I suggested that he talk to his ex and get the girls counseling. But that won’t happen. He blames her for that, but I think it is just as much him as anything else. I wonder how other step-parent’s deal with this kind of thing? The kids seeming excited and wanting to do something with one parent, and then telling the other parent and the response being completely different?

And why are there not books for the Mom who is going to be “sharing” her kids with a step-mom? Why is it all about the step-mom and how we need to act? Shouldn’t there be something for mom about remembering that the kids are PEOPLE, not POSSESSIONS!

Pass the wine.

Ugg...really?

I was asked to review my boss. My boss who takes everything personally and will retaliate. How do I answer the questions truthfully but still retain my job?  Seriously not looking forward to this.

Do as I say, not as I do

The rules have changed. I didn't know that they would, but suddenly, in the midst of buying furniture on Monday, they did. Some background: these kids of R’s are messy. I don’t know how messy kids are generally, but I know that I would NEVER have wiped my hands on a dining room chair at 11. I wouldn’t have brought red juice into the living room (then again we really were not allowed to have red juice in the first place.) I wouldn’t have left an open marker on the couch. N pushes furniture around and bangs into things, which causes them to get dinged up. He runs into walls causing chunks of wall to fall to the ground. Granted I was not in a wheelchair at 16, but I doubt I would have done this if I were.

So when we were looking for furniture I expressed displeasure at the idea of buying a light colored set of barstools for the kitchen because the girls would wipe their hands on the chairs and mess them up.  I suddenly got a, “Would you quit ragging on the kids!” from the guy who 3 seconds earlier had been ragging on the kids. Ok. So now I know it is a do as I say, not as I do environment. That’s fine as long as I know what the rules are. It’s like kids on the playground, I can say my sister is a jerk, but you’d better not. Ok. I get it, I understand the rules.

I think that is what caused me to react so harshly this morning when R was driving me into work and said, “As long as your friend can keep her big mouth shut about the house.” I flipped and stated, “She doesn’t have a ‘big mouth.’ ” Yeah, it touched a nerve. I don’t know why, but it did. He’s got a point because the kids still don’t know about the house. But my friend KNOWS that they don’t know and wouldn’t say anything anyway. We’ve got more to worry about with the nosy neighbor that he thinks is so great that now knows we are moving.

But…he’s right, I shouldn’t rag on the kids. I should remember that they are kids and they ruin stuff. But you know what? I’m 36 and have not had to deal with kids before 5 months ago. I didn’t have 16 years of getting acclimated to the fact that I can’t have nice things because they will break/lose/ruin them. So cut me some slack pal.

That is what drives me the craziest. I have never wanted kids. Never. (Ok once that feeling came over me, but it was gone in a few months.) But beyond that, I have never wanted kids. R knows this. So I hate the expectation that I will just move into the “Mom” role. No previous experience, no warning, I’ll just do it and love it because I have ovaries. Obviously I have wanted to have this role and would know exactly what goes into it because I have two X chromosomes. Would anyone expect a man to slide easily into the “Dad” role? Would you expect him to do it and love it just “because”? I don’t think so. In fact society tells us that men don’t want to be a father figure to children that are not theirs. So why should I want to be a mother figure to children that are not mine?

The kids are great for the most part. But I hate the expectation that I will just love his kids and that I would just love the opportunity to be their Mom. I’m NOT their Mom. I’ll never be their Mom. And anyone thinking any differently is crazy. I’ll never be their Mom in their eyes…nor frankly do I want to be. I’m happy to be the step-parent…I don’t need to be anyone’s parent.

But I guess I really need to watch what I say.

Hello Friday, I needed you about now.

It ended up that everything worked itself out yesterday because the guy we picked to rent out the townhouse for us could come and take photos at 3 pm. So no girls night, but no hurt feelings either way either. Which is good.

Got the TH listed for rent and had a showing today at 12:30. Still waiting to hear how it went and whether they will want the TH or not. I suppose it is a waiting game that I will just have to endure.

Weekend is looking busy, but not too bad. No kids, which is nice. Basketball game and power soccer on Saturday, lunch with my family after that, and then some sewing time with my sister and Mom. This sounds bad, but time away from R is what I need right now. I’m needing time with my girls and this is a band-aid for that. I don’t know what Sunday will bring, but hopefully some down time. I need to start packing my sewing room so perhaps that will start this weekend too. We’ll see I guess.

I had lunch with the work gals today before runaway left to go back to her new home. She’s here over the weekend for a friend’s 40^th bday. She invited me to go along, but I just couldn’t do it. R would get too cranky. And if I am going to spend the weekend away, then I’m going to spend it with sis and mom at quilt retreat. She got that, but I was sure thankful for the offer. Lunch was really helpful though. It was nice to talk and get some things off my chest with people who knew where I was coming from. I feel better than I did this morning. More able to face the world and what is in it.

Here’s to a great weekend!

Sigh

One of the biggest fights that R and I have revolves around me seeing my girlfriends. His view is that if I want to spend time with them it means I don’t want to spend time with him. This is not the case, but he doesn’t understand that sometimes I need a break…even from the love of my life and his three darling progeny. I am not saying I love my friends more than R when I go out with them. But that is what he sees. Consequently I find myself in a bit of a pickle today.

A good friend from work moved away a few months ago. She found the love of her life on the interweb and moved 1000 miles away to be with him. She continues to work for the electronics retailer that I work for and she comes back to our state every month or so. Four of us who went through new hire together have a dinner date tonight. We’ve become quite close over the nearly 3 years that we have been here. Lost loves, work issues, new loves, vacations, kids, step kids, ex’s (ours and our boys’), winnebago’s, etc. We’ve become very close. These are people that I consider friends, not merely “work friends.”  So when our runaway comes home I like to get together with everyone to catch up.

The problem is…R hates our runaway. I’m not exactly sure why, but I think it is because she is (in his opinion) a bad influence. I on the other hand, think she’s a riot. She is a good friend who was there when I really needed someone. She made sure to check on me constantly when I was at the lowest point in my life. She helped me heal, and for that I will be forever grateful.

So I am being pulled between 2 things I am desperate for. Seeing my friends and being where it would make R happiest (at home with him and the kids tonight.) I was so stressed about it I have not even told him. I’ll figure something out though. Hopefully it is before it’s time to leave for dinner. J

Apples to Apples

We had the kids last night, and as my last post proves, I was really in need of an attitude adjustment.  I got home after work (I did about zip all day) and R had made dinner. The girls were upstairs working on a puzzle and N was watching Empire Strikes Back.  Dinner was good, but towards the end chaos started to reign. I could see R getting closer and closer to bubbling over.  So I told the kids that we’d play a game after I was done cleaning up. The girls went upstairs (acting crazy) and N went back to the movie. R went to the couch and crashed.

After cleaning up we played Apples to Apples until it was time for R to take them home. They were ridiculous. It was as if we had put 12 gallons of sugar in each kid! It was quiet when they left. When he got home R was in a state because they were still wild on the way home. I told him that was why I was trying to keep them out of his hair. He left, and then came back and said, “Thanks for that.”

Tonight is just us. We have 2 property management companies coming to look at the townhouse for rental purposes. Then we’ll make a decision tonight and hopefully get the place listed this weekend or earlier. Once we have a renter I’ll feel much better about the move. We MUST find a renter for April 1. We simply can’t afford to pay 2 mortgages and our other bills. So I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everything works out. I know it will, but I just need to have this done.

Then it will be all about packing and moving.  Ugg.

VD and beyond

Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and once again I leave a holiday feeling screwed. R’s assistant scheduled him for a meeting in a town 4 hours away that started at 2 pm and lasted 2.5 hours. So he didn’t get home until after 8. I went to the club and worked out. I need to do that more than I do now, so I am trying to take more time for myself and get it done. That and I am not happy about where my weight is so…off to the club I went.

While there I got to thinking about the gift I got him and what he had been talking about getting me over the past month and a half or so and I thought I’d better get him something else. To quote Julia Roberts, “Big mistake. Big. Huge!” I got him a camcorder and a Ferrari buyer’s guide. I got a plastic pair of binoculars (a joke gift) and a sample pack of massage oils. Really? Really!?! I’m not as materialistic as this sounds (because believe me I KNOW it sounds bad) but REALLY??  COME ON! Did you stop at Walgreen’s on your way home to get me my gift? At that point let’s just agree not to get gifts for each other. If you are not going to put ANY thought into it at all, then just forget it.

So I go to bed not really all that happy and I wake up even less happy. I power on the computer to print something out for the new house and the track pad on the laptop won’t work. That damned kid turned it off! I know I’m going to sound selfish here, but why can’t she just leave the damned thing alone!?! Why can’t she leave the settings alone and not mess with them? Is there a reason she needs to mess with it and change things? That kid has caused us to get more viruses than I ever had prior to their grubby little selves moving in. RAWR!

Then R turns to me and says, “Can you just fax that for me? I just don’t have time.” When did I become his secretary? You don’t have time to push a few buttons? I KNOW you wouldn’t be doing it anyway; his assistant at work would do it. But OBVIOUSLY I have time to do it. Right? Negatory ghost rider.

But unlike him I made time to do it. I am so frustrated. I need some time with my girlfriends. I need some time away for a while. But when do I get to do that??? Never is the answer. I rarely get more than a few hours a week alone. And never are those hours consecutive and at a time where I could meet up with my girlfriends and de-stress. Sigh. I need some girlfriend time.