Just kidding – we had a strange weekend here at the old Bleep Household. Nothing bad…nothing good…a lot of just odd. We continue to experience gurgles from the Girl…more and more we are convinced that she is uncomfortable with me in general and with her half-brother in particular.
Friday, as you all know, was another mini D-Day for the lad. I asked him if had had a chance to contact any of the resources I found for him – he hadn’t. I tried explaining the next set of resources I had for him, including 3 online job sites that I set up accounts for him on, the name of the youth league referee coordinator (the Lad has expressed interest in become a professional referee) and 3 restaurant owners (he also has shown some interest in this area). I asked him for his email address – which he has yet to give me. Basically we have had no movement as far as he goes. I know, I know, none of us are surprised right?
Hubba took him to the corner store Saturday night and they talked for about an hour out in front of the house. Apparently O once again expressed to the Lad that something has to change. That we want him here, if he is working towards a future, but if he isn’t…The lad confirmed a few things for us though. The Girl has, very specifically, told him that the Little Guy isn’t really their brother (which he is) and that Mrs. X has repeatedly given him the “Your father has a new family now and can’t be worried about you any more” speech as well as the ‘you are getting the short end of the stick’ speech.
I don’t understand this. Why is Mrs. X doing this? Supporting these lies? Telling my SS that we don’t care about him and that if I wasn’t here everything would be hunky dorey? I don’t get it….
There are like six different posts based on just the information above, but I’m tired, tired of trying, tired of fighting for a better future for my SS (and yes, that is what I am doing in a weird way). I’m sure that tomorrow, in the bright light of day I’ll feel like continuing, but right now, I’m just so tired.
I’ll be making the round to all my favorite stepmoms and stepdads to catch up on your lives.
I’m Just So Tired,
The Wicked, and Exhausted, Stepmother
Re-reading some of my past posts, I’ve come to the conclusion that I very rarely say positive things about my stepson, the infamous Lad. While this post is not designed to ‘teach’ us anything or even to make us think, I do hope it makes some of us laugh.
Ladism #1: Late one evening, I was indulging in one of my worst addictions, popcorn. Standing over the stove, the Lad wandered through the kitchen, asking me what I was doing. I replied I was making popcorn. He asked why I wasn’t using the microwave. “it isn’t that kind of popcorn.’ I explained. “Huh,” said the lad, “I didn’t know you could do that.” I guess in the Lads world popcorn was invented with the microwave.
Ladism #2: I once asked the lad if he would like to eat dinner with us. “I just ate two 1/4 pound hamburgers, that is a whole pound of meat.” In the Lads world, math apparently doesn’t work the same way as it does in our world.
Ladism #3: Hubba and I were sitting and talking about Lenin. The Lad was listening intently. Hubba and I were commenting on how odd it was that they put his body in that glass coffin and that people could walk by and see him, years and years after his death. Lad asked us why and I said I didn’t know, maybe because he was a symbol of communism. The lad waited a few moments before saying in amazement: “John Lennon was a communist?” I guess I should be happy I finally convinced him that the Beatles were a major musical force, but in his world? John Lennon lead the Russian Communist Party.
Ladism #4: Hubba told the Lad last night his favorite quote by Thomas Jefferson is “But it does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.’ The Lad replied: “my favorite Thomas Jefferson quote is that it took him 200 attempts to make the lightbulb before he got it right.” In the Lad’s world, Thomas Jefferson, not Edison invented the lightbulb.
Laughing for Once,
The Wicked, Laughing, Stepmother
I made soup today. It is something I love to do. It amazes me that you can throw in a little bit of this, some of that, a dash of yet another thing and end up with a bowl of yummy goodness. You can start with anything with a bone, add in some herbs, some onion, celery, garlic and just simmer away. After a few hours you rich broth just aching for bits of sausage and potatoes or vegetables – really whatever you have. It ends up good. Thick and rich, my soup is often more a stew. It sustains you for hours.
Wouldn’t it be nice if our stepfamilies were that way? A blend of this and that, a little something else thrown in, simmer and viola the perfect blended family.
I look around, like I am sure many of you do, and think ‘We’ve got the perfect raw material here.” A dad who cares and has a great sense of humor. A daughter who is tough and loyal to a fault. One son who loves to watch sports with his dad, is famous for his Ladism (like the time I offered him some dinner and he replied ‘I just ate two 1/4 pounders – that is like a pound of meat). Another son who is just starting out and who sees wonder in everything. An ex-wife that is relatively independent, no pesky child-payment issues. You can’t forget, of course, to add in me: a stepmom who really does want the best for her stepkids, one who is crafty, silly (I’m famous for throwing food at the hubba), loving and intelligent. Sounds like the perfect recipe huh?
I have to wonder how many other stepparents have discovered that their ‘perfect blend’ has turned out to be little more than a recipe for disaster. Why can’t creating our stepfamilies be as easy as making soup. Sure, it takes time – especially if you add in a lot of ‘ingredients,’ and you have to give it time to simmer. With soup, the recipe is almost foolproof; not so much with stepfamilies.
I have found blending my family to be more like mixing oil and water with a little bit of glass and arsenic mixed in for effect. To be sure, sometimes I am the glass that causes irritations, but a lot of times I am not. In light of the past few days I’m left believing that my family is more like an a la carte salad bar. We each have our own flavors and rarely do we compliment each other.
Today I made chicken soup and chicken and dill salad for sandwiches. Hubba and I will sit down at some point together to eat (the little guy already did). The Lad, although invited, would rather drive to Taco Bell and eat in front of his television.
My soup is good, thick and rich. It smells heavenly and we will enjoy it. I only wish building our blended family was half as simple.
Would love to hear your ‘recipes’ my fellow stepmommy’s and stepdaddy’s!
Chopping, Dicing and Simmering,
The Wicked, and Wickedly Good Chef, Stepmother
Where to start…this weekend has been enlightening, upsetting, disheartening and a bit uplifting.
Friday was another mini D-Day for the Lad. I made some calls and did some research and found him a couple fo different resources that would help him with aptitude testing and placement. I was actually very excited about some of the information. It seemed like the perfect solution to the Lad problem – he always says he wants to do something, but he doesn’t know what.
In keeping with my overall plan of the deadline on September 22 and cutting off all of the typical avenue’s the Lad takes (ie complaining to mommy and sissy), I called Mrs. X, the Smile Fuck Queen, to give her the run-down. She actually sounded pretty happy about my ideas. Hubba was equally excited and actually thankful for my work. All and all, I felt positive.
The Lad was busy filling Taco’s during the day, but when he returned at 5:30, hubba grabbed him on the way to the shower, stating he needed to talk to him. I chimed in “I get you next Lad.” Hubba explained he wanted all of us to talk about my info. Lad was aggravated before we started. It went something like this:
“Did you have a chance to call the school this week?” I asked
“No, it is too late to register anyway.” snotty, snotty, snotty
“actually it isn’t, you have three days left, but whatever, you have opted not to go to school and that is cool. Your other option is getting a full-time job.” I kept my voice even.
Bowing up, the Lad began to raise his voice “what are you talking about? Nobody said anything about a full-time job. I don’t…”
“He is getting defensive” hubba chimed in, “Just Listen.”
“Lad, you opted not to register for classes, you can’t work at Taco Bell for the rest of your life, so I just want to talk to you about some resources here.” I explained.
‘Whatever..”
“Well, the college offers an assessment. They have a three-part test, with an interview, once you are done, they will have a list of 10 jobs that might be a good fit for you.” I explained, showing him a hand written note with the details. “There is a fee, but I can’t remember what it is, I do know that I can pay for it so when you call to make an appointment, ask what the fee is and let me know.” I actually know what the fee is, but more about that later.
“I don’t have time to..” he interrupts
“These are just options for you. Whatever you decide to do, it’s up to you. The second resource is one town over. It is all free. They do testing, offer workshops in a bunch of stuff like how to interview, how to do a resume and stuff like that. I spent 30 minutes on the phone with the manager. He is actually looking for someone to work 20 hours a week and man the desk there. It would be perfect – and give you access to a ton of resources, so when you go in, and you should just go in, ask for Joe and give them your name and then…” I am really just reading off the notes I wrote out for him.
“That job is so mine.” Not with your language skills it isn’t
“Well, that may or may not be true, but the important thing is taking advantage of some of these resources.” I explained.
He talked to hubba for a bit longer, then hopped into the shower. This whole exchange was odd to me and I’ll tell you why. Hubba supposedly told the Lad that if he didn’t register for classes or get a full-time job he had to go. My question is this: why the hell was the Lad so surprised?
After the Lad left, I went out and talked to Hubba, asking him very simply, “What was all that crap about not getting a job about?” Hubba didn’t have a great answer for this, but I left it…for the time being.
Shortly afterwards, I received a phone call from Mrs. X, Queen of the Smile Fuck. She informed me that the Lad had called her and actually sounded excited. Then I was treated to the world according to Mrs. X…Apparently I have finally figured out how to talk to the Lad. She did explain to him that if he wants to work at Taco Bell for the rest of his life, that is fine with her, but as a favor to her could he please go do that testing? A favor to WHO? That would be me. She isn’t pushing him to better himself, she isn’t the one trying to develop guidelines for him…that would be MOI.
When I got off the phone, I was steamed, and I threw a temper tantrum, basically yelling about how she isn’t helping. She isn’t pushing him, for every step I try to take with him she effectively cuts off my balls (which I know I don’t have, but you know what I mean). Hubba was really good and listened and together we figured out that Mrs. X, Queen of the Smile Fuck, has been informed by the Girl about our plan for getting the Lad out of here.
Fast forward, Mrs. X, Queen of the Smile Fuck, asked me if we would take A, my hubba’s granddaughter by the girl Sunday afternoon for 3 hours. Mrs. X watches her every weekend and had some plans late on Sunday, but before the Girl got off work. I said sure, of course, we love having her. She is 1 1/2. Anywho, A get’s dropped off, and Hubba, the Little Guy, Me and A play and eat and laugh and stuff. A is a pretty good girl, but not stimulated enough. The kind of kid who thrives with attention and learns quickly – but only if someone is teaching her. At her age, the Little Guy knew all his body parts, his colors, shapes..that kinda thing. Today was the first time I got her to show me a nose. She also had pretty bad diaper rash – not enough to think they are not taking care of her, but enough that it was noticeable and someone should have told us to be hyper vigilant about wetties.
When the Girl finally showed up to pick her up, things got weird, really weird. I pulled her aside to tell her about the diaper rash and tell her that I treated it with specialized talc, that I had extra if she needed it. She pretty much ignored me. First weird.
I got the Little Guy to put on his ball cap (fucking adorable) and told him to go show sissy – she ignored him..literally. Second weird.
The Girl’s hubba, HotStud (that was/is his Yahoo profile ID when he was looking for a girl to cheat on A with three months ago), always interacts with the little guy – always, totally into him. Tonight? Completely ignored him. Third weird.
We all sat down together and I tried talked to HotStud and the Girl. Several times – several different subjects. They literally turned away from me. Fourth weird
When they left, my hubba said he was done. Finished. Fifth weird.
Hubba and I had this crazy conversation, where he proceeded to tell me all this incredible crap about his daughter, his X and his son…and things they have said about us. Basically, the Girl has continued to express her belief that the little guy isn’t really her brother. Apparently she has also recently questioned my parenting abilities. I started potty training at 18 months – early, yes, but he was ready. She believes that I ‘forced’ the Little Guy to use the potty. I’m too rigid – because I won’t give the Little Guy chocolate milk, cookies, Twinkies’ and fast food ( which I actually do, but ‘treats’ are an exception in my house, not the rule). Apparently she is also upset about the way I feed him, which is primarily organic and aimed at giving him balanced meals as much as possible. She even complained that I only keep ‘nasty’ juice in my home – which is funny because I spend a lot of money on 100%, all natural, organic apple and orange juice for him. No preservatives, no added sugar – it has an expiration date. I guess the Girl is upset because A won’t drink anything that isn’t loaded with sugar. Funny thing is, that little girl has always eaten like a champ here. I’m a horrible step-grandma because I serve fruit of some sort to the kids with every meal and A doesn’t like it – again funny because yesterday she ate 1/2 cup of cut up melon.
The long and the short of it is that The Girl and HotStud have chosen not to have a relationship with us. Hubba doesn’t want them here anymore. I think that he could ‘handle’ them not being respectful to me or him, but he refuses to allow them to ignore the Little Guy. This whole thing is sad because not only are we effectively cutting the Girl out of the Little Guy’s life (hubba states he will no longer talk to the Girl about her brother at all), we are cutting them, including A out of our lives. That little girl didn’t do anything wrong and we won’t have her here anymore.
Hubba is of the belief, and I agree, that the kids have been subjected to a steady diet of lies and manipulations from the Queen of the Smile Fuck. He believes that the kids will ‘figure it out’ eventually, but honestly? I have reached the point where I don’t need them in my life. Attempting to build relationships with them has done nothing but set me up for tears and failure and I have better things to do with my time and energy.
At the end of the day, this weekend was a revelation of some sorts. Hubba does see the same behaviors and attitudes that I see. He isn’t ignoring them. He is slowly reaching the point of no return with his kids. He told me last night that the kids have noticed how different he has been since he met me and said the following:
Of course I’m different, I was miserable for years. I spent my time waiting for something to happen and living for my kids. I wasn’t myself, lost track of myself. I was lonely, suicidal and unhappy. I’d sometimes have a happy moment or a happy day, but I was unhappy. I met you and that changed. I’m no longer just waiting for retirement and the end. I am interested in living again and in life. For the first time ever, I feel like myself. If my kids are upset or hurt or jealous of any of this, I don’t know what to tell them. I deserve to be happy too.”
Anyway, really long post boils down to just a couple of key points: the kids don’t like me, they are angry at their dad because of me, they don’t believe that the Little Guy is their brother, Mrs. X, Queen of the Smile Fuck is sharpening her blades, and hubba and I are OK with all of this ending.
I don’t have to try to be a stepparent anymore. They neither want nor need one. My sole job at this point is taking care of my family and getting the Lad out of my home…and yes, now it is time for him to go, now I declare war. My line in the sand was drawn a long time ago. It is time that I start living up to it.
I See Their True Colors,
The Wicked Stepmother
Hello my friends. I have been absent the last few days due to a billing snafu with our internet provider (read PC forgot to pay the bill). It has been an interesting couple of days, to say the least. I have lots to share. We laughed a little, cried a little, were angry and hurt a little and have arrived, somehow ina completly new place. I’ll be writing a longer post to share it all, but wanted to write a quick note to say ‘hi’ and I miss you all!
Hope all is well with everyone!
Last night PC returned from a short business trip. After the ‘missed you’ part, we sat down to catch up. Eventually the conversation turned to the lad and his latest ‘girlfriend.’ Told PC that Mrs. X called yesterday to tell me that the Lad was indeed dating again – although the age of said young lady is in question (for future reference I’ll call her Tart). Anywho..I told hubba what I had learned and asked him a simple question: “Tart is not to spend the night here and, if she is underage, is not to drink here…are we on the same page?” To which the darling, if clueless, man replied:
This is your house too. I don’t want her sleeping here or drinking here and neither do you. If they are here doing either, you need to get up, go into his room and tell her to leave. If she has been drinking, drive her home. If the Lad has a problem with any of this, tell him to wake me up.”
HMMMM – not exactly what I had in mind.
It reminded me of something PC said to me a week or two after we all moved in together: The Lad isn’t your responsibility, but he is your problem. Sounds to me like he is asking me to do the parenting and the disciplining so he doesn’t have to.
We have all read the psycho babble new age crap about how as stepparents we should leave these tasks to the bio-parents. I have yet to read an article about what to do if the parenting is dumped in your lap!
The truth of the matter is, regardless of the actions I take, any action taken to prevent Tart drinking or sleeping here will be seen as my fault. Have any of you ever been put in this situation (Leese???)
He isn’t my kid, I often feel like this isn’t my home, his destructive actions shouldn’t be my problem – then how come I feel like the only responsible adult here? Is it unfair for hubba to dump this on me?
Doesn’t Wanna Be The Responsible One Anymore,
The Wicked, and Apparently Dictatorish, Stepmother
I once had a fight with Prince Charming that was worse than our typical spats. We were yelling at each other and saying things best left unsaid. He eventually got his pillow and said he was sleeping on the couch. I asked him to drive the baby and I to my mom’s house (which was empty at the time) because I wasn’t going to stay someplace I wasn’t wanted. We made up the next day and that was that.
When I started writing this blog, I received tons of comments and emails from other stepparents saying they had a ‘plan’ for getting out if things went south. It made me wonder…do all married people do this or is it simply something that happens in blended families?
How many of you have a plan like this? How detailed is it? What events would ‘trip’ the plan?
For myself, unemployed and carless, I’m sort of in a bind. My plan would take years to put into effect.
Just curious,
The Wicked Stepmother
The years between my 9th birthday and my 13th don’t hold a lot of good memories for me. I had twin sisters, six years older than I, that were…difficult to say the least. The worse of the two, L, got in pretty big trouble in high school. Drinking, drugs…the whole gambit. They were both trouble though. Almost too much for my parents to handle. Mom and dad sheltered me from the worst of it, so I still don’t have all the details, but there are a few ‘incidents’ that stick out. When they were 16ish things were really bad. I know there was a problem at school, drugs in our home and more. My parents did what all parents would do – they tried to straighten the girls out. There were therapists and meetings. Groundings. It didn’t work. Eventually, they did the hard thing. The girls were told if they couldn’t abide by the rules of our home they had to go. I remember sitting on the stairs, watching my dad cry as he changed the lock on the front door. I had never seen him cry before. It was hard. It almost killed my parents. It was also the right thing to do.
The ‘experts’ called it tough love – I just called it scary. My parents did something that many of us probably don’t see our spouses do – they parented their kids. No matter how hard it was on them, they knew that cutting my siblings loose would either fix the problem or protect the rest of the family from it.
Since I have started blogging about being a stepparent, I have read countless comments about the excuses bio-parents make for not parenting their children. How many of us have heard something like this: ‘I feel so guilty for leaving him with his mother,’ or ‘I only get to see her every other weekend, let’s not rock the boat?’ When did it become OK to stop being a parent? When did it become OK to excuse bad behavior?
It is strange for us, as stepparents. In many cases (like mine), we have no parenting skills yet. We are dropped, head first, into a situation that requires parenting skills and experience that we simply do not have. We are somehow expected to artfully blend our families, nurture our stepchildren, ignore problems, love our spouses, build our marriages and not have any opinions about parenting.
To be sure, this excuse mongering exists in traditional families as well; it just seems so much more rampant in blended families.
Life affords no greater responsibility, no greater privilege, than the raising of the next generation. C. Everett Koop
I won’t lie to you….it was years until my sisters got straightened out. It took a trip to rehab for one and a cross country odyssey for the other, but the foundation my parents laid for them, that there are consequences, allowed them to build themselves back up. Strangely, ‘tough love’ simply became love for them.
What excuses have you heard? Who ‘parents’ in your home? Could you do the tough thing for your kids?
Finding My Backbone,
The Wicked, and Often Wobbly, Stepmother
I’m an Intervention addict..seriously. Maybe it’s ’cause I went to my first Intervention at age 11, maybe it is because it gives me hope that every problem can be solved…maybe I’m just a rubber necker gauking at other people’s pain – I don’t know.
I also hate change – change of any kind….it literally hurts me.
I’m sad that Ken won’t be returning to the show 😦
Awesome blog…I’d actually comment more on it if I could figure out how!
Read it, live it, love it!
Confessions of the Wicked Stepmother 