“Emergency” cash

Husband likes to know we’re all prepared in case of an emergency and that includes having emergency cash on hand. We gave Ben some to keep in his wallet once he started driving and periodically Husband will check to see that his still has it. The expectation is that if he uses it, it will be for a VERY good and justifiable reason.

Well, Torey just started driving and Husband decided to give her some emergency cash as well. Sounds reasonable, right? Sure…except for two things: 1) because of some recent large purchases, Torey has no money right now and 2) she leaves on a four-day school trip today. Temptation thy name is CASH!

So I mentioned to Husband (and yes, this made me feel like Evil Stepmom) that he should probably check with her, after her trip, that she still has it. Part of me honestly thinks she’ll spend it. Part of me thinks she won’t. For Husband’s sake I hope she doesn’t. The Evil Stepmom kind of hopes she does.

Why do I “hope” she does? Torey has figured out how to live without parental structure or consequences. Her Mother has founds it’s easier to just let her do her own thing (luckily Torey, at this point, isn’t a Bad Kid). And Husband, well through Torey’s manipulation of her schedule and her “overwhelming” homework, only actually sees/interacts with her for about 20 min each week. Husband is a Good Dad and I think if there were an opportunity where he could impose some legitimate consequences would be good.

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Parenting…sort of

I had a conversation with The Husband this weekend that helped me develop some insights into my relationship with The Kids. There are four Kids – Ben (18), Torey (16), Laura (14) and Kelly (11). Ben has lived with us the last couple of years while the girls come over two nights a week.

One of my struggles has been how much can I correct The Kids, especially Ben. I was talking to Husband about how I get annoyed when Ben spends all day Saturday watching TV at full volume. The Husband’s solution – tell him to turn it down. But it’s not that easy. And I find myself upset – at myself – that it’s not that easy. Growing up I babysat, A LOT. I was good with kids. So, how come I feel like I’m floundering with The Kids? How come I feel uncomfortable in my own home?

Luckily my Husband is a Good One and the conversation continued. I said that if I told Ben to turn it down he wouldn’t turn it down enough and then I’d be even more frustrated because I’d asked and still not gotten what I’d wanted OR I’d ask Ben to turn it down again and he’d be annoyed and I’d feel guilty. Husband said that if it were him he’d tell Ben to get his butt off the couch because there were things that needed to be done. Thankfully Husband understood that this was not an option for me. Because, what if I said that and Ben said NO…? I have nothing left, no power, no authority, plus a Kid who probably resents me trying in the first place. I don’t have the option, particularly with teens, to set up a power struggle that I could lose because that’s it…game over.

So, I feel like I can’t parent, which makes me feel like a crappy parent. And here’s the thing – I’ve got a good gig. A great Husband and really good step Kids. It’s still hard.

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Picking Battles

Some days being a stepmom is just hard. Maybe, it’s just being a parent, but this feels especially stepmom-ish. I find there are many things that my stepkids do which annoy me. Things like slurping their noodles, drinks, yogurt or blowing their nose at the table or constantly talking over each other or slamming cupboards; they may not be Big Things but they all feel like Big Things in the moment.

 

I do call them on these things sometimes, but once I’ve made an issue over a couple of things I feel like I hit the limit for the day. Sure I could keep commenting/correcting but I feel like I’m always the bad guy. And there’s this fear that every time I say something it’s a check in the Evil Stepmom column. What’s a girl to do? I don’t say anything and I stew, annoyed. I do say something and I’m seen as hawking a poisoned apple.

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It’s just a highlight reel

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Snark

Recently I’ve realized how tired I am of the snark. Snark – from snarky – meaning criticism or cutting remarks. It’s everywhere, on Facebook, online forums, comment sections and in real life in work meetings even, though I’m not proud of it, in the snide comments we make to our co-workers about others. It permeates our internal dialogue and, eventually, it will come out in our interactions. We think we’re funny or clever, but really we’re mean and biting.

It’s easy to get caught up in being critical of each other, especially if it’s couched as “humor”. But lately I’ve found myself being dragged down by it; I don’t want to live in that negative place, I don’t want to be the person who hurts someone else that way. Because, honestly, it’s no different from what we did in middle school and it hurt then and it hurts now.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint. I’m not saying I’m not negative or that I don’t get frustrated with life or colleagues or family. My goal is to not contribute to the snark. To walk away from it when I can. To deflect it if possible. To protect my Heart.

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