What do you get when you take a single guy with two kids aged 12 and 14 and add a not-yet-divorced mother of 4 children all under the age of 6?
Well, now that we're almost 6 years in, I can say that you get a lot. A lot of joy. A lot of hurt feelings. A lot of laughter. A lot of disagreements. A lot of apologies. A lot of swearing. A lot of tears. A lot of growth. And a hell of a lot of love. And thank goodness, because without that, we may not have lasted even this long. Because I'll tell you, parenting is HARD, but step-parenting is the HARDEST EFFING THING I'VE EVER DONE.
Thankfully, I myself had terrific step-parents. My stepfather was fun and was present for EVERYTHING. He never missed seeing me cheer for junior league football, sing in the chorus or play flute in the school band. He encouraged my chugging entire bottles of Yoohoo at the tender age of four, if only to hear me belch like a frat boy afterward. When I was older, we shared a love of stand up comedy, crossword puzzles and being the first to crack each new issue of Reader's Digest. He'd be so pissy when I beat him to it! When my first marriage disintegrated, it was he who rescued me. Even though I was far too old to rely on him so heavily, I would never have had the strength to soldier on if not for he and my mother. There were never distinctions made between my older brothers and me and our younger brother, his son with our mother. He proudly claims us all and we love him for it.
My stepmother is a living saint. She and my father also had a combined total of six children and, to this day, I've never heard her raise her voice. And she puts up with my moody father so...points! She took communism to a whole new level when we were kids. The budget was tight -really tight- but she would sometimes bring home a candy bar or other treat when she did the grocery shopping. You read that correctly: "A" candy bar. This woman would take a single Snickers bar and divide it into 8 pieces so that everyone could have one teensy tiny morsel. And you'd just pray that you'd get a peanut or a glob of nougat stuck in your teeth (For God's sake, please!) so you could savor that deliciousness for as long as possible before having that peanut jammed between your molars had you begging for relief. She tried, is all I can say. And it does give us one more thing to tease her about.
With such shining examples one might think I would have an easier time convincing my two literal red-headed stepchildren that I am not, in fact, a horrible scourge on their family. One would be dreadfully wrong. I was sooooo naive. I sincerely believed that if I treated them as my own that they were going to love me right back. Cute, huh? But I tried from the very beginning to treat the kids equally, with adjustments for age and maturity, of course. ALL of these kids were MY kids -emotionally speaking- and I had such ridiculously high hopes for the relationships I thought would come to be.
At this point, though, my relationship with my stepson is nonexistent...but that's a story for another time.
Today's Meltdown is all about our girl. Let me flesh this out a bit. This is our smart and beautiful 17 years and 50 weeks old senior in high school who lives with us. And by "lives with us" I mean she shows up here long enough to make a mess and collect gas money. Her bedroom has been slept in only a handful of times since school started. Otherwise she's snoozing on her mother's couch. Despite the fact that it was made crystal clear that No Job = No Driving Priveleges, she has her own set of keys and no income. After skirting the job issue for the entire summer she quit the only position she could get just three weeks in because her boss was "being mean." No shit.
So here we are.
But am I mad at her? Yes, for quitting her job without having another in the wings. Yes, for using us to secure access to our vehicle. Yes, for assuming that we will pay for her car insurance and gas with absolutely nothing in return. Fuck that.
So, yes, I am annoyed with her for acting like a 17 year old. But I'm actually pissed off at her father. For not putting his foot down and enforcing the rules we set together...again. For continuing to kiss this child's ass as he has done so, so many times before. For setting the precedent that these are not "requirements," but mere suggestions, for the younger kids who are undoubtedly taking note. For not telling me she had quit her job and not reacting in any way until I insisted. (The negotiated verdict: that she is not allowed to drive anywhere other than to and from school until she has a new job.)
But mostly, for being the reason that his children may never show me any real respect. For perpetuating the "Us/Them" mentality that wreaks havoc on blended families.
Don't get me wrong. I love this man with all my heart and soul and there is not a single niggling doubt in my mind that he loves me just as fiercely. He's wonderful to me. Because my young ones rarely see their father, he has filled that role for them in a way that few men would be willing to even try. He does laundry, grocery shopping and ALL of the cooking. Seriously.
But, I need him to be a parent. I need him to stop setting me up to be the heavy.
So, yes, after almost 6 years together I can say there is a lot. A lot of conflicting ideas. A lot of rejection. And a lot left to learn.
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