A Virtual Pat on the Back

I wanted to take a moment to give Jane a pat on the back. Not because I think she’s turned her life around or because I think a great miracle has been bestowed on us … but because I know I really appreciate credit for things I have done and I think it’s due for her.

Jane has been regularly been taking the boys overnight every Friday (with the exception of perhaps 2-3 cancellations) for the last two months (or something like that). But that’s not where I give her a virtual pat on the back.

Older Boy had a project that was accepted/chosen to be a part of the District wide Science Fair this past weekend. He and two of his friends in his 5th grade class decided to test which type of paper made the best paper airplane.

Off Topic – I was the parent home when the three of them were doing their project and keeping them on task and guiding them when they had no clue was a project in it’s own. Luckily Middle Boy and Younger Boy were away at Jane and Jolie’s for the weekend because topping that task off with an infant was pure chaos.

Back on – the Science Fair was on Saturday and neither FH or I could attend. We suggested to Older Boy that he call Jane up and invite her to it. We weren’t sure what would happen but figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least invite her. I couldn’t really tell if Older Boy was enthused or not about the idea. The first time I brought the idea up to him he kind of had a “Sure, I guess” response. Then when FH brought it up a second time he was an indifferent response. Half of a “Yeah, that’s a good idea” and half a “If you’re forcing me too I guess I will.”

Either way, Older Boy called and left a message on Jane’s voicemail which later had to be translated by FH to Jane. She later surprised us when she asked for the address to the science fair location. We were even more surprised that she actually showed up and picked up Older Boy.

So that’s one virtual pat on the back for Jane.

The second is that she and her man got a second vehicle. Not only did they get a second vehicle but it’s a van. So now there are enough seats for all 6 of them to travel and no one has to get left at home.

She also bought a booster for Middle Boy who is not yet heavy enough to be out of a booster.

I was rather relieved needless to say. I wouldn’t say I’m now carefree for when they go to her house. But knowing that they have a vehicle that can hold all 6 of them in an emergency makes me feel a lot better.

And I don’t expect this streak of effort on her part to last, but I’ll be pleasantly tickled pink if it goes on for another month or two. That would by far break her last record of putting effort into being a part of the boys lives.

Proud of My Husband

I guess a positive and a downfall is that I’m always looking for the positive in people - except for the likes of Kobe and Derek Jeter. Otherwise, even in Jane I have some faith in to one day be a decent human being.

She actually had set a new record for herself this year. She was consistently seeing the boys for a dinner date once a week. She had even been taking all three of them overnight about once a month or so. It got to the point that I stopped wondering when she was going to cancel on them because I really figured that maybe she had grown up a bit and started to grasp that Motherhood responsibility thing.

Then two weeks ago she cancelled. She didn’t give a reason, she just cancelled…the day of. Then last week she called up FH trying to cancel. At first her excuse was that they were having car trouble. And I’m very proud of FH because he said “No,” and said that even if she didn’t come the boys were still going to go visit at her mom’s house. Then she tried to throw in that her ear had been bleeding the night before. FH again said ‘No, we have a date night planned.”

Low and behold, when we got to Jolie’s house there parked out front was Jane’s car. We were pleasantly surprised (actually shocked) because we figured she was just going to be a no show.

We had a fabulous date night but then she really pissed me off again when she asked FH if Older Boy could come stay the night on Friday. And Middle Boy could come too if he wanted. And again, Younger Boy got dissed with no invite.

FH called her back later that night with the message that perhaps she ought to take Older Boy and Younger Boy this weekend, and to relay more info involving Middle Boy’s medical bills (that’s a whole other post).

To her credit she actually called back a day or so later and said it was fine with her if Younger Boy went over there instead. It still pissed me off, but at least she was willing to take him.

Anyway, I’m proud of my husband. My husband two years ago might have been willing to bend over and let her have her way without argument. But he’s been standing up to her lately and I like it.

Baby Update: As of right now that little baby is still trying to kick her way out. She hasn’t quite figured out that is not how you get out of there. I’m 38 weeks and oh so ready to be done. I’ll keep you all updated on whenever I actually leave to go into labor. The due date is September 29th so basically she’s coming whenever she’s good and ready.

And for those who enjoy a good visual, and aren't a friend on Facebook, here is the baby bump at 38 weeks.

Should I Keep Track of Communication?

I think October was the month of stress, money-draining, busy frustrations. Obviously by my lack of updates I was not around much. I think October was the month of updates for my blog. And I have some stuff to post, but I’m going to wait until later this week to get them out. I have an agenda for this entry.

Actually it’s more of an opinion gathering from all of you.

As some of you know, and some of you are learning, I make the visiting schedules for Jane to see the boys. I do this because one wasn’t set in place when the divorce was going through court. I also do this because Jane doesn’t put much effort forth into seeing the boys, so unless we nag her to give us the dates she has off from work, hand her a calendar and say these days work for us do they work for you, and hope she doesn’t cancel … the boys don’t get to see her. I also plan out our weekly meals to help budget our groceries and not knowing which days I’m not going to have to cook dinner I usually end up with stuff for an extra meal. Which I guess isn’t a bad thing, but more annoying to spend money we could use for something else.

I’ve adopted the stance that just because she’s not responsible doesn't mean that I’m going to slack off too. Someone has to look out for the boys, and make sure that their feelings, well being and rights are being met. So this is my effort. I try to make sure that I’m not being her personal assistance, because I’ve gotten plenty angry about being it. So my attitude is that I’m the boys’ care taker, and that I make these efforts for the boys and not to do Jane a favor.

This week we don’t have any days planned for the boys to see Jane. She hasn’t told us any of her days off. And the week is already getting filled up with wedding planning stuff, and social engagements. Hopefully she’ll have Saturday or Sunday available. And even better hopefully she’ll give us a call and let us know which days she has off.

As some of you may also know, I have both her and FH sign and date each schedule I make. Then we give copies to Jane, Jolie (Jane’s mom), and keep the original in a binder. I make notes on scheduled days that she cancels on (in my binder), and whatever excuse she’s given us.

Given the current situation of her not getting back to us with her available dates happens often, what I’d like to know your opinion on is do you think it is necessary to start keeping a log on when we contact her, and when she gets back to us about her days off?

And if we should what should I keep track of? Here is what I'm considering so far:

Date of call
What happened (Message left/conversation subjet)

Is there anything more I should consider keeping track of when it comes to phone calls? Do I need to be more detailed?

I know that sounds super OCD but I don’t want to give her an opportunity to ever say that we prevented her from seeing the boys. I want all my ducks counted, in a row and a paper trail of anything and everything to prevent this.

And to the point, I don’t want her to ever try and say that we didn’t let her see the boys. Especially if it was because she didn’t call us, didn’t call us back, and/or totally slacked on finding out and relaying her days off to us.

So what do you think?

And thank you in advance. I really appreciate all thoughts and opinions you all leave for me. It helps me to see things from the outside – and to take others’ experience in the life of stepfamilies and such.

To end on a positive note, here is the cake that I created for Younger Boy’s 4th birthday party. This year he wanted a blue Blues Clues cake. However, I couldn’t find a bottle of blue food coloring (I need a tablespoon to make the color) so I had to make it green. I had no complaints for creating a green Blues Clues cake.

Happy 4th Birthday Younger Boy!!!

The Great, The Frustrating, and the Icky

So obviously I am still trying to balance this new blog and Facebook updates for work with regular life here. It’s been going good at work … same ole same old. It’s work, who am I kidding. Anyway, I had promised another entry last week that I didn’t get to do. And since them other stuff has occurred so I’m going to try to do a mini-novel blog entry.

The Great – He Loves Me
It was a regular afternoon. My fiancé and I were lying on the couch watching some sports. Younger Boy came out of his room and walked over to us and then he melted my heart.

YB: I love you Crys *gives me a hug*
Me: I love you too YB *tries not to cry tears of happiness*

If anything it has been one gesture that has helped me to smile. It has also been the gesture that I try to resort to when I get frustrated with Younger Boy for his daily antics. Another love he bestowed on me was when he told me:

YB: Crys, I love you with my Thomas trains.

What does it really mean? I have no idea. But that kid is a huge Thomas fan. So I kind of associated it to be a good thing. Anyway, he has given me some great warm fuzzies to hang on to.

The Frustrating – Kindergartner Homework Meltdown
Middle Boy has had quite the crying fit over homework the last two days. His homework is getting a little harder and is requiring him to think and process what he’s learning instead of just writing letters and numbers. He’s doing a good job, but now that he’s being required to do things a bit more challenging he’s getting frustrated. And even more frustrating is that instead of asking for help and using his words to explain what he’s doesn’t’ understand he just sits there for forever and then goes into crying fit mode. Crying Fit Mode is where he does nothing but cry, he can’t make himself stop, he can’t think straight and then his whole body gets involved and he gets hot and clammy, and he feels nauseas and his nose start running like crazy.

It is the most frustrating thing in the world to me right now. It started out of no where (at least it hasn’t occurred since he figured out how to read). Both my fiancé and I are here to help him if he needs it. But he needs to learn to ask. Yesterday was not a great day. I finally started a luke warm shower and told Middle Boy to get in there because he seriously needed to cool off.

Anyway, it resulted in a great argument and tension between me and my fiancé. He couldn’t understand why I was so angry and I, of course, was trying to hold it all in and not lose my lid. That of course didn’t work and I ended up pulling my fiancé behind our closed door to tell him exactly why I was so frustrated. It of course stemmed from a couple of things that had been irritating me but being sort of yelled at/talked sternly too with the excuse of “He’s sick and he’s six” really blew my lid. Especially since 1) he wasn’t sick, he worked himself up and 2) I’m aware he’s six but that doesn’t give the excuse not to ask for help and to go into crying fit mode all of a sudden out of no where. I topped it off with the “And it’s not easy raising someone else’s kids, especially when their mother brings them back six steps each time!” Oh yeah that was the cake topper than finally reduced me to tears. I think it usually is, but I really need to learn not either blog more or to stop bottling stuff up inside … or perhaps a combination of the two?

Anyway, we patched it up. Middle Boy cooled off and finished his homework, and today we’ll see how it goes when it comes to homework time.

The Icky – Jane
That says it all right there I’m sure. Do you all remember how Jane just can’t seem to be responsible when it comes to her children? Like how she called us on our trip down to So Cal and was obviously pissed off that we weren’t going to turn the car around and come take Middle Boy off her hands when he puked all over the place. Or like the time she wouldn’t make a decision regarding if a recovering Younger Boy should go over to her house or not and put the decision in his 3-year-old hands. I could go on, but those are examples I know I’ve blogged about.

So down to the point, Jane’s aunt’s cat died. Now don’t get me wrong, I would be very sad if one of my cats died. What made me feel so icky about this is that Jane came down to spend the day with her aunt after her cat died to help console her.

Should this have bothered me? Maybe – Maybe not. But it did. It bothered me that she would come down (and I can’t figure out how she got out of work because it was on her scheduled work day) to spend time with her aunt whose cat just died, but she couldn’t just take care of her children or make a responsible thoughtful and caring decision on their well being.

I don’t know how she reacts to the boys when they do something at her house (like throw up, smear poop all over her bathroom walls, or anything else they might do). But I do know that she gets all feisty and angry when my fiancé comes to get them. Like he asked them to puke on her carpet or smear poop on her walls. And do not have any worries; it’s not keeping me up at night. But it was one of those things that I just was astounded over.

Whatever, right?

A Loss Of Words

We’re going to be leaving on our trip to Southern California on Thursday still. Older Boy stopped puking Monday evening. Younger Boy only puked once today, but kept two meals down. However, at dinner time he threw up again (during Older Boy’s birthday party that we decided to have since both boys had kept their food down that day … until then). If it were anything like Sunday night I'd say cancel it, but I think time is on our side here and that we'll be good to go.

The boys are supposed to go see Jane tomorrow since we’ll be leaving Thursday (her day with them). I expressed that 1)I really thought that with our trip planned Younger Boy needed another day of sleep and rest (like he had today – especially since he puked up dinner), and 2)I was concerned with the risk of him puking at Jane’s house because not only is it Jane and she freaks out when one of the kids does puke but she also has the baby over there. I guess I was more concerned with the health of the baby and I didn’t want to risk exposing him to whatever Younger Boy has, apparently, not totally kicked yet.

Anyway, I suggested that my fiancé call her up and let her know. He decided that he was going to let her choose whether or not Younger Boy should go over there. So he called her up, and from my end of the conversation, I didn’t have a damn clue of what Jane’s final decision had been. It turns out she told my future hubby to let Younger Boy decide.

OK, can I just burst out with a “Are you F’ing Kidding Me?!?!”

You’re going to put the health of your baby, the health of your other son who is 3-years-old into that sick 3-year-old’s hands? The boy can’t make up his mind if he wants a turkey and mustard sandwich or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was appalled. I was literally at a loss of words after my quiet under my breath “Are you F’ing Kidding Me?!?” came out.

The first thought that came to mind was, “Is Jane seriously that incapable of making a responsible, rational, and sane decision?” Then I thought, “Is she seriously that lazy that she’s going to put that responsibility in Younger Boy’s immature and innocent child hands? Then I thought, “F That Shit! If she’s not going to be an adult and make a responsible decision then I sure as hell am.”

As much as I would love to share the joys of parenting a sick child with her, I’m not about to do that. Especially since she doesn’t feed them anything but junk! The last thing I needed was Younger Boy getting sick again at her house and her freaking out about it. The other last thing I needed was Younger Boy going over there and then her baby getting whatever it is that caused the puke fest over here. I’m not a doctor, but considering that it took about a week for Younger Boy and Older Boy to catch whatever lovely ickyness Middle Boy had last week I really didn’t want to risk it.

I honestly think that Younger Boy will be good to go on Thursday with another day of sleeping, drinking water, and resting. Like I said, he did pretty good today until dinner time. And I truly do feel really bad that he’s not going to get to see Jane tomorrow. But I care a whole lot more about him getting better and being healthy. Am I being too paranoid? Maybe ... but then again I've never had kids before. Don't all mothers worry about their childrens' illnesses at first? I know my mother still worries about my health issues today. She may not be there wiping up my puke, but she cares and she calls and she asks questions to stay in the loop. I've considered that maybe he's just got a touchy and sensitive stomach since he participated and competed for the title of "Top Puker" in our family. But when it comes to having babies I get even more paranoid about the risk of illness.

And it really just blew me away that she chose to leave that responsibility in Younger Boys' hands. That she couldn’t just say “Yes, I’m willing to take the risk” or “No, I’d prefer that he not come over.” Is it really that hard of a decision to make? Especially when it comes to the well-being and health of your children?

Potpourri – Toilet Chatter, Kung Fu Panda and Parenting Plans

I disliked the word “potpourri” back when I was in high school yearbook class. I thought it was so lame. And yet here I am, using it because I can’t think of a more appropriate title for all the stories I’m about to throw your way. I’ve tried a total of four times to sit down and bust out a blog entry. And each time was interrupted by something great. Cooking dinners was a main offender, as was pointless meetings at work, Kindergartner homework questions, quarreling children and wedding planning. But here I am because I have so much to share and if I don’t share it I fear that I may just burst, because I have no one to tell this to (that would truly understand and appreciate it) outside of you fine, wonderful ladies. Where to begin …

Toilet Chatter
Younger Boy is starting to get to the point where he’s comfortable enough and able to talk to you while he’s urinating. (Speaking of urinating I have a much delayed story for you about that. Next Entry!) And oh man, has he turned into quite the chatter box. I’m not sure if it’s because he likes to hear himself talk or if it’s because he feels that he needs to say something. As the story goes, we were at Petco the other day getting the cats some food when the feeling struck. “I have to go potty!” he wailed as we stood in line paying for the food. I tried to hurry along the process as the lady at the cash register tried to sell me a cheap cat toy and donate a can of food. “Sorry, not today. He has to go to the bathroom.” I gesture at Younger Boy who is indeed furling his little fist at his groin area, twisting his sweat pants around and pulling and tugging in the inevitable and world-wide recognizable “Potty Dance.” She points to the back of the store, “You’re more than welcome to use the restroom in the left back corner,” she says. I’m momentarily shocked at this moment – did you know that Petco has restrooms? With a nod and thank you I grabbed his hand, my purchase and we made the dash to the back.

YB: I have to go potttyyy! Oooh, Birds! Cats! Dogs!
*He dawdles and points to a photo of the different animals as we rush to the back of the store*

I plop him down just in time as he starts to let the urine flow. That’s when he looks up at me and smiles.

YB: I’m going potty!
Me: Yes, I know.
YB: I’m peeing on a stone wall!!
Me: Ugh *Pauses and tries to listen to music playing to see if they’re singing about a stone wall*
YB: I like Apple Jacks!!! *Note that the enthusiasm in his voice inflection goes up with each phrase*
Me: Oh yeah? *Baffled*

Don’t ask me, I have no idea. But I remember singing songs while I urinated in public restrooms. I specifically recall when I was with my dad at a baseball game and I got to go in the men’s restroom. I serenaded all the men to “I’m a Little Tea Pot.” Maybe this is karma coming back around with her lovely purse of paybacks.

Are You F’ing Kidding Me?
Older Boy and Younger Boy got to go to Jane’s this past weekend. Middle Boy got to have a fun weekend with us at the aquarium. But the point of this tidbit comes to after my fiancé has picked them up. Apparently they did nothing but watch Kung Fu Panda all weekend long, because the baby likes it. Apparently the sound of Jack Black’s voice is one of the few things that makes the baby happy and smile. Thus, because the baby likes it, they watched it over, and over, and over … all weekend long. I turned to look at my future hubby, absolutely speechless. My jaw about dropped open and all I could do was shake my head. I’ll tell you what, we haven’t watched Kung Fu Panda at all since they came home.

Taking Charge of the Parenting Plan
As you may know, I’ve been very proactive about trying to arrange time for Jane to see the boys that works with all our schedule. New facts for you: Remember when Jane fell and got hurt? Well, now she’s having seizures of some sort. My fiancé has tried to get details, but I guess she’s not offering up a whole lot of info. The Department of Motor Vehicles revoked her driver’s license due to these seizures, which honestly, sparked worry and concern on our part about the boys being with her over the weekend.

Her boyfriend is the only one bringing in an income. (Quick tangent – Jane thinks that her boyfriend’s Wal-Mart income is going to support all three of them. Are you serious? I’m still trying to figure that one out.) Back to our concern: What if he’s off at work and it’s just her, the baby and the two younger boys and she has a seizure? What happens then? If she’s not willing to give up details on the severity of this, but we know that the DMV doesn’t trust her behind the wheel of a car, I sure as hell don’t trust her with the boys. So we’ve changed her visiting situation. (Which she seems much happier about btw because apparently she doesn't get any sleep when they spend the weekend with her because they keep her up all night. If she's not willing to set a bedtime I have no sympathy for her.) She now will spend time with the boys one day of the week (pending on when her boyfriend can drive her down and/or her mother can spend time with them also). I assigned the fiancé to find out what times would work with all involved. He got the run around. Well, I blew my lid. I was pretty harsh with my fiancé after he tried to get hours that worked for everyone. I pretty much told him that he wasn’t being aggressive enough, and that I was indeed tired of this crap. He told me that it’s hard to work with three people’s schedules (technically four.) I shot back with the fact that I manage to schedule meetings working with five or more schedules all the time at work. I then proceeded to grab the car keys and storm out of house to the nearest store to do some calming down (shopping).

I came back, apologized for being a bitch, but then confirmed that I was not happy. So I took action. I printed out a weekly calendar with times and filled in when we were available. I had my fiancé communicate with Jane’s mother who provided us with details of when she wasn’t available. I then came up with two options for Jane to choose from. She's not allowed to have open options anymore. But she will not receive options that I (have obviously) have defined. We’re now waiting until next week because her boyfriend has to wait on the night shift manager to create his new schedule. But the point is that there will be a set Parenting Plan that I’m having them both sign and date, for January thru June of this year.

Updated: I just wanted to add in that my fiance will continue to be the face of all this. As frustrated as I get, I know that it would probably be in the best interest to keep my face and name out of it. That and I seriously can manage my anger and frustration a whole lot better the further I stay away from her. The only reason her boyfriend is even considered is because he's the one that has to drive her around now.

The Things Kids Say
I thought I’d end this with some more great wonderful things the kids have said lately. For your enjoyment, one of the latest kid quote conversation snippets from my home to yours.

MB: Crys, what are mammals? Are cows mammals?
Me: Yes, cows are mammals.
OB: We’re mammals.
MB: I’m not a COW!

So precious ...

Me Against The Green Fuzz

Whoa, has it been a whirlwind of a week. I’ve been trying to figure out just what to write about, as there is so much to write about.

I thought about venting about how we had to gently remind the kids of things they had forgotten after being at Jane’s for five days. In short, Younger Boy forgot how to use the bathroom for about a day and a half, Middle Boy forgot how to listen, and Older Boy forgot about the meaning of “being responsible for your things.” All, of which, have been re-established within the last three to four days.

I thought about sharing about Middle Boy’s last minute birthday party so that my almost-in-laws could attend. In short, my family and my fiancé’s family all met, got along well, and all fears of religious arguments (his mom is Mormon, the rest of his family isn’t very religious, my family was brought up Roman Catholic, yet now are more WBF Catholics (Wedding-Baptism-Funeral Catholics) and We-have-our-own-spiritual-ideas people.

I even considered venting about how during the party my almost-Mother-In-Law looked me square in the eye and said, “You know Crys, my boy didn’t start drinking until he met you…..We have alcoholism in our family….please keep an eye on him.” In short, I was proud of myself for holding my tongue and note telling her exactly how responsible and moderately her son does drink compared to the binge drinking I saw in college. I answered with a “He’s actually very responsible, doesn’t drink often, and I have alcoholism in my family too so we actually do make sure to be responsible about our drinking habits.” By that I mean I do enjoy a drink now and then; and a beer after a very hard day of work. We are, however, having a kid-free birthday bash in which I plan on getting pretty happy off of my champagne punch recipe.

But what I really want to tell you about is the green fuzz. And by “green fuzz” I mean “mold” on my window sills.

My apartment complex believes in using single-pane windows. And lately, it’s been cold. Not Michigan Winter Cold, but Northern California Cold so about 40 degrees Fahrenheit at the average cold. I put up thermal curtains to keep the cold out and the warmth in. Back to those single-pane windows, they participate in condensation like they’re getting paid by the hour to do it. Nestled behind those wonderful curtains caused a wonderful little Biology mold-growing experiment on the window sills and all around the side of the window. Well, I have asthma, and in addition to the kids being sick, I about freaked out.

My fiancé went down to the office to say something and instead got a 5-minute spiel about how “The entire complex experiences this” and even received tips on how to deal with it and prevent it. I told him that they either have this special spiel memorized, have already recited it quite a bit since the Northern California Cold set in, or a combination of the both.

I spent last night defending my family from the mold. I really needed a mask or something, but I did pull on the blue washing gloves. I also had to stop at some point because it was making my lungs hurt. It wasn't a major occupation of green fuzz, but a light sprinkling of it. Still, it sucked.

I did do a bit of research on natural remedies to kill and prevent mold. With all of us and the cats in the house, I didn’t want really harmful or strong chemicals flowing through our respiratory systems, especially since it was night time. Instead, I opted to use straight vinegar with some lavender essential oil mixed in. I highly recommend it if you ever need to fight off mold. It killed it, removed it, and the lavender oil helped subdue the bitter scent of vinegar.

Now my single-pane windows no longer have the curtains up. Those are being washed as I figure out a Mold-Free Prevention Plan of action against the green fuzz. I’m still debating whether to put them back up or not. I’m thinking of keeping them up in the bedrooms, but since the windows in the living room are a pain in my rear, I’m considering just freezing in the morning while I work and waiting for it to warm up by afternoon time.

As for my Mold-Free Prevention Plan, I’m really not excited about getting to wipe down windows that seem to drip with water and condensation all day long. I’m also not keen on getting to clean my windows with my vinegar lavender solution everyday in effort to keep it clean and mold-free. However, for my families’ health, I’ll do it.

So, does anyone have any experience in keeping windows dry?

Angry At Three In The A.M.

"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them." ~William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night (Act II, Scene V)

It is 3:31a.m. and I am, once again, awake and on the couch with the cats. However, I’ve already decided that I will NOT be sleeping out on the couch with the cats as I usually do. I have been tossing and turning and not sleeping well at all. I finally said, “Enough is enough! I need to clear my head!” Well, not out loud. I did not want to wake my fiancé. I, as gracefully as possible, came out here. It was deserted at first as the cats have claimed the boys’ room as their own. Boy, are they in for a rude awakening come tomorrow when they come back from Jane’s. The minute I sat down on the couch I must have activated the Cat Signal because they came out one by one and have each planted their fur-butts on either side of me. Just chillen’ as if this is the normal thing that we do. At this point in my life it sure seems like the normal thing that we do often.

The Setup
Today was exhausting. I received a bill about a week and a half ago for my lovely trip to the emergency room for my bee sting adventure. $180 is what that cost me. Well, the $180 was due yesterday. In the midst of trying to be responsible and budget out money, I totally forgot to budget for that, even though it was placed with a magnet up on the white board with the amount and due date in RED marker. I did some crafty financial maneuvering between my savings and both checking accounts. Then I called the Finance Customer Service number on the bill. I figured I’d see what my options were, either pay for it over the phone via plastic, or at least find out what the late fee would be so I could add it to my total. We’ll either someone decided I deserved a break or the gentleman on the other line could tell that I was about to literally fall apart and loose my shit because all that crafty financial maneuvering left me hanging by a single mental thread of sanity. He discovered that, since I have health coverage through work, I might have been misplaced between my transitions from the Southern part of the state to the Northern part of the state (that’s what I get for living in California). So he left me with the hope that my coverage would actually cover this and hopefully I won’t have to pay anything. I expect to receive some thing in the mail showing me that the $180 is covered or that part of it is covered.

Anyway, the point goes back to me hanging by that single mental thread of sanity. Because as soon as I hung up the phone that single mental thread of sanity snapped. My fiancé was home from work, and it was a really good thing because I totally lost my shit. I sat on the couch with him holding me for a good while. The tears came, and I fought them back. A few of those buggers slipped through my iron walls of defense though. And then the anger came and I don’t think anyone has ever seen me shake so violently from anger. In fact, I didn’t know that I could shake so violently from anger. I don’t think I’ve ever in my life been that angry before. Oh wait, I was pretty upset a couple of weeks ago that I was shaking, but nothing to the extent to this.

The Anger
Now, due to my inability to share my emotions when I’m super angry, my poor fiancé was left thinking that I was angry about this bill. It was many hours later that I was able to turn to him and tell him exactly what was going on.

FH: Are you feeling better now.
Me: A little bit.
FH: You were shaking pretty violently earlier.
Me: Well, I was angry.
*Pause*
Me: I was angry because all I could think was “She should be paying to help for their care. We shouldn’t be so financially stretched thin. THIS shouldn’t be happening.”

What I really wanted to add onto that, but didn’t is “This is bullshit. I’m so f’ing tired of paying for the care of the children while she gets to play Mommy every other weekend and not take any responsibility for them.”

What I really wanted to add onto that but didn’t is “I’m so f’ing tired of cleaning up this mess that she keeps insisting on making. I’m so f’ing tired of feeling like I’m the only one with the balls to stand up to her and hold her accountable.” I generally feel bad whenever I think this because I know that my fiance has been trying to change and not let her get her way. But inevitably, he did choose to give Jane her way. And now he's living with the consequences of that choice.

What I was thinking about 15 minutes ago while lying in bed trying to calm down and relax for the 40th time and go to sleep is “I’m done with this shit. I give her chance after chance to be a decent human being, and it’s either a major flaw or a major gift, but every time I give her that chance she disappoints me again and again and again. I’m tired of it and I’m not taking this shit anymore.”

Is there anything I can do about it? Legally, not right now. If I (we) had the money I (we) would sure as hell be bringing her to court and demanding child support. It seriously makes me so angry that she’s not paying any, and that she’s not expected to pay any. It makes me so incredibly angry that she’s been allowed to have responsibility in their lives and yet she’s not being held accountable to help provide any. It makes me even more angry that she had another child, even though she’s not being expected to hold any responsibility for the three children she already has.

I feel like the biggest, meanest, unreasonable bitch because I feel this. Am I going to leave and stop providing care? Heck no I’m not. But as soon as I can afford an option I’m going to take action. I’ve never been one to stand around talking about how I ought to do things. I’ve always taken action.

The Somewhat Tangent Vent
I believe that as a person you have the ability to make a choice. It comes down to the nurture and nature argument I guess. I've always seemed to lean more on the side that people make their lives through their choices. I'm not sure exactly on the spectrum where that falls, but that's where I'm at. A lot of people throw her the nurture bone. She never had a good mother … she never had a good example of how to be a mother … she had a crappy life. All I hear is blah, blah, blah. She has an older sister that has made quite different choices from her and she had the same upbringing. Her older sister is not only a decent human being, but she’s also a responsible mother.

I believe that you can let yourself be the victim, or you can make the choice to change and walk away. I’ve been the abused girlfriend. I might not have made the choice to be hit, but I sure as hell made the choice to say “I will not take this treatment anymore” and I walked away. I was the anorexic in college. I chose for a long time to play victim to the mental disorder. I chose for many, many years that anorexia had a hold of me and I could not break free. And one day I realized that no, I had the choice to change. And I did.

Yes, I had a good upbringing, but not the best role model as a mother. My mother and I still don’t have a close relationship, and I’ve chosen many a times not to call her or ask her for help, or confide in her. But as I’ve grown older I’ve also chosen many other times to call her when I’m upset and crying. I might selectively choose the specific event I’m calling about, but I’ve chosen to take those steps.

If there is any impact or impression that I hope the boys walk away with from living with me, it's that they realize that they have the ability to choose, and that a single choice they choose to take action on can make a world of difference in their lives. And if it's the wrong choice, they can choose to learn from it and not make the same wrong choice again.

Sorry for the rant, but I’m just so tired of people given Jane excuses. I’m already exhausted and tired of this game she plays. I’ve already started to take steps to show her that we’re not playing it anymore. And I say “we” because my fiancé and I are in this relationship together. If he’s not willing to work with me to stand up to this nonsense, and if I’m not willing to bend totally over breaking my back to play her game then it’s not going to work. And after talking with him on numerous occasions, I’ve concluded that we’re not bending over to break our backs anymore. We’ll bend for some flexibility, but we’re not playing her game.

Thank You
So, if you’ve read through my anger, I thank you. And please know that I totally appreciate you. I am thankful for you. I am thankful for you even if you didn’t get past the second or third paragraph. I’m also thankful for my fiancé, because for once in my life I’ve found someone who will listen to me. We may not always see eye to eye, but we’re willing to try and work something out. And I’m also thankful for my cats. Both of which, have passed out, furry heads laid out on my lap top keyboard.

And at 4:10am, I will conclude my rant, and attempt sleep once again.

I hope that you all have a wonderful holiday season with your family and friends. I hope that you get your holiday shopping expeditions fulfilled. I hope that you have a burned-food free holiday baking mission. I hope that, if you drink, you drink plenty and have a good time. I know I will.

Teaching About Responsibility

One of the latest endeavors I have chosen to take on is teaching the boys about being responsible and holding themselves accountable for their actions/choices. My fiancé has been rather impressed that I actually follow through with my efforts.

Let me start off that this latest task has been brought on by many frustrations that roll back to the boys lacking any grasp on the concept of being responsible. I had stepped on one too many toys that were not put away. I got tired of finding important items (like shoes/belts/books) that were hiding in unmade bed blankets and sheets, and this was me finding them after the boys complaining that they looked and looked and looked and couldn’t find the item. I really was pushed to the limit though with the Older Boy.

In the past couple of months he has:

• Lost his spelling/vocabulary word list TWICE
• Forgot to do important homework (that, I should mention, was stapled to the packet of other homework that he had already done that day and finished and said that he was done with.)
• Forgot his warm, winter coat at his martial arts class
• Forgotten his lunch bag and didn’t take initiative to go retrieve it himself TWICE
  

And I’m sure there are others but these listed were rather important. Although I could deal without the lunch bag, but because it’s happened multiple times it’s landed on the list.

Anyway, just verbally telling them that they need to be responsible wasn’t cutting it. I had to put some action behind those words. And man, trying to teach children to be responsible (especially when we’re the only household that gives a damn that they learn this) has been a bit rough. Plus I’ve been trying to make sure that we are setting a good example ourselves so that we serve as good role models.

One thing that has been successful thus far has been the issue with putting toys away. It started one night when the boys were in bed and I looked around the living room (sprinkled with Thomas & Friends engines, Legos and other toys here and there). I walked into their room, turned the light on and told them that they needed to start being responsible about putting their toys away or I would find a child that would be responsible and thankful for the toys. After I closed the door my fiancé said that they had been told that before. I responded with, “Well, they haven’t been told that by me.” I held true to my word and have a bag that has toys the boys left out after being asked to put their toys away.

I also have been working on listening skills, specifically: When I ask you to put your toys away that means you should stop playing with them and put your toys away. This was sparked after a night that I had to ask Middle Boy three times to put his toys away. Technically it was four times, except the fourth time I walked in there and saw him jump up from playing and start putting toys away and I responded with, “When I ask you to put your toys away, that means put your toys away. If I have to come in here and ask you again, any toys still on the ground are mine.” Well, that seemed to fix that issue. Especially after Middle Boy saw me pick up some Thomas train tracks lying on the ground and put them in my bag. Toys have since then been put away each time they are asked, and before they go to bed. And I’ve only had to ask twice at the most in the last two weeks.

We’ve used sticker charts with the boys for a couple of different things, and they have been really helpful and successful. My fiancé and I have talked about making a Responsibility Chart for the boys. Some of the things that we wanted to put on there are:

• Making my bed in the morning
• Finishing all homework for the day
• Putting my toys away before bedtime
• Putting my clothes away when asked
  

Of course some of these will only apply when applicable (homework on weekdays and clothes when there are clothes to be put away. We also talked about different fun things to do for when they do all that they are supposed to do. We’ve talked about whether we should start off doing it week by week or every two weeks the boys get something fun if they do everything they’re supposed to.

My sister and I had Chore Charts, and boy, did they work on us. I’m hoping that they will work with the boys on learning a little something about responsibility. My only concern is that the boys will connect “doing this action” gets “stickers on a chart” which equals a “reward.” And I really don’t want to reward actions that should be done anyway, but I know that we need to start somewhere and that making things somewhat fun might result in better cooperation from them.

I’d like to know what you have done to teach responsibility to your children, and do you have any other suggestions on things I can work with the boys on being responsible about? I do realize that they are children, but I really think that they’re old enough to learn about being responsible about things.

3 Year Olds Have Feelings Too

I have been working to be proactive when it comes to Jane’s visits with the boys. And I mean that in the most positive and compassionate way. Before I came she hardly ever saw them – maybe once a month. I arrived and she had her baby, and she started calling more often. I took a weekend to read through the divorce papers so that I could understand legalities a bit better in their situation. They have joint legal custody, but he has sole physical custody.

I’ve had to come and think about things… a lot of things. Is this “sudden want” to see the boys:

• Because she’s on maternity leave and has time to see them (before she had the baby her available days were Thursday because that was her day off.)
• Because I’m here and she feels that she suddenly has competition
• Because perhaps, there’s a chance that she’s actually changed and WANTS to see them because she wants to. (And I say this because the way she’s presented taking them was as if she was doing us a favor by taking them off of our hands.)
  

My concerns with this “sudden want” to see the boys is, “Is it going to last?”

I suggested working trying to set up a schedule, and then the boyfriend brought up the whole maternity time off ending at some point. That terrified me. I don’t want to get the boys hopes up if it’s all going to end. I’ve already seen it happen once. And it broke my heart to have to tell them that they actually weren’t going to be seeing Jane that weekend.

So we’re just playing it week by week, month by month, holiday by holiday. I don’t know if she was going to ask for them for the Thanksgiving holiday. But I asked the boyfriend to find out if she would like them for a couple of days during their week off. And I guess she said yes, so I’m hoping that she won’t change her mind.

Back on topic, I have tried to be proactive about it. I’ve been trying to remind the boyfriend that I need to be made aware of what decisions have been made when it comes to them visiting her. I don’t want to make plans only to find out that plans were already made. [Refer to “And Then I Exploded.”] That is communication between us. However, this post refers to her lack in communication with us. She likes to drop things on us the day of.

Jane was supposed to take the boys this weekend. Come Friday, I find out she only wanted two of them. She said it was because she didn’t have room in her car for all of them to visit her father this weekend. However, after the boyfriend picked them up he said that she was talking about continuing only taking two at a time. Now, she did just have a baby and I understand that, but do the boys?

We chose to keep Younger Boy with us, since she didn’t say which two she preferred to have. We chose to keep him because he’s still potty training and the last time he stayed at her house he allegedly finger painted with his poop. (Which he has never done here, but I’m not going to say she’s a liar.)

All I can say is that it broke my heart when the boyfriend and Middle Boy went to go pick up Older Boy without him. He knew that he was supposed to go to her house. And (while we are working with him on this) Middle Boy isn’t very common sense smart yet when it comes to gloating about getting to do things others don’t/not teasing people about getting to do things others do. They walked out the door and Younger Boy sat there, on the ground with the saddest look on his face. Head looking down, hands clasped in his lap. And one lone tear trickled down his cheek.

It took a lot of strength not to cry myself. I beckoned to him and we sat there. I wiped his tear and told him I loved him. (And I know that I’m not replacing her, I never will and I don’t intend to. I like to hope that we can have a relationship of our own.) He was soon smiling, and that was important to me.

The boyfriend and I decided to make it a fun weekend for Younger Boy. We took him out to Pier 39 to see the sea lions and the big hit with him was the pigeons (the kitcheons). We all had donuts for breakfast in our bed and watched cartoons all morning.

I know that he’s only three, and he may or may not remember it. But I hope that he’ll remember that he is loved, and he is wanted, and that he had a good time with us. He has feelings too, and those feelings can be hurt while us adults are too busy trying to 1) figure life out, 2) thinking about ourselves and 3) make our life work the way we want it to.

Flight Of The Bee

Well, I’ll tell you. The flight of the bee ended when that sucker stung me yesterday. I was walking across the yard, Younger Boy in hand, when I felt the sting … straight through my jeans. And it really hurt. But I’m a trooper and I hoped, hoped that maybe it wasn’t that bad. Well, then I realized that my jeans had pulled the stinger out and as I took a step, stung me again. Bastard jerk jeans … cause the initial bee sting wasn’t painful enough.

It was a painful ride home. And I’m not allergic, thank the lord, but I am really, really, super sensitive to venomous stings. In fact, in the 10 minutes it took to drive home, I started to feel the dizziness. Being stubborn, and sometimes stupid, I thought. “Ah hell, maybe it will go away.” I made a baking soda and water paste to suck it out (hopefully). And tried to work a bit and relax. (Not so easy when your leg is painfully throbbing.) I put Younger Boy and Middle Boy down for their nap, sat down to do some work. And about an hour later, I had a sickly feeling in my stomach. I was still fairly dizzy and I started wondering if maybe I should go to the hospital.

But, since my throat wasn’t swelling, I wasn’t breaking out in hives, and the worst was my leg hurt like hell I decided that a Pepsi and a Motrin would have to do. Well, that didn’t do too well at all. About 30 minutes later I was super dizzy and disoriented that I knew I couldn’t drive to pick up Older Boy, much less drive to the hospital.

That was scary. Luckily for me, the boyfriend’s sister and her husband were home. So they came over. She stayed at home with the boys, the boyfriend picked up Older Boy from school, and her husband took me to the emergency room.

I’ve been stung before, that ended up with a trip to the emergency room too. And this time was no different from the other times. I got the same old dosage of Benedryl, that messes me up even more, and a tip sheet of how to make ice packs and baking soda pastes.

So now I wait anxiously for the boyfriend to come home with some more Benedryl for me … because my leg hurts and itches. And we live on the second floor, and all those stairs don’t help me feel any better. Thankfully, the boyfriend got off work early enough that he can pick up Older Boy again.

Anyway, it was scary knowing that I wasn’t well and worrying "What about the boys." I was getting dizzier and dizzier by the minute it seemed as I waited for his sister and her husband to get here. I was sitting on the floor with Middle Boy debating if I should tell him that if I fall asleep to make sure to ask who is at the door in the chance that I passed out. I’ve never had anyone but me and the cat to worry about before. If I got sick, the cat laid on me and cuddled with me and I drank orange juice and ate soup until I got better, and all was well. But now … man, there are three other human responsibilities that rely on me to make sure they get to school, get fed and are cared for. And I just feel the need to state once more that it was damn scary being that out of it and not sure if I would be conscious enough to answer the door when they arrived.

Not only that, but man, I have got to take better care of myself. Not that I woke up that morning and thought “Hrm, I think I’ll be reckless and get stung by a bee today” but the whole “I’ll shake this off” thing ... because I didn’t shake it off. I could have been at the hospital a whole hour and 40 minutes before I got so bad that I was sitting on the floor leaning up against the couch. This parenting stuff is tough stuff, and I had a scary reality check. Not only do you have to take care of the kids, but you have to take care of yourself so that you CAN take care of the kids.

Not that I didn’t have respect before, but I have an even bigger respect and understanding of this parenting thing now. I guess you learn the lessons as they come along.

Exciting Off Topic News: My cousin is the Grand Master at a local Dojo, and we’ve brought Older Boy and Middle Boy there. Both the boyfriend and I are so proud of them both. I know that we both think that this form of martial arts and environment is exactly what both boys need to find confidence in themselves and a whole new attitude on life. And they both seem to love it. I can still see the big grin on Older Boy’s face as he did his first lesson. And he stuck that thing out. So Proud!