Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Warning - Bitchfest

So I'm bored at work again, typing this in notepad because I can't use blogger, except at lunch time. Of course, I usually would type in notepad anyway, I don't trust blogger to save my drafts all the time. Anyway, I am so far behind. Life has been pretty average. I still dread going to work every day. We just upgraded to Microsoft Outlook 2003. Of course, everybody has to bitch about the change. As if I change these things on purpose just to piss everyone off. Yes, please, complain to me that you don't like it. It makes my day so much brighter.

There have been quite a few things I have wanted to write about, but it usually hits me during the day. I can't always write about it then, and I kind of lose the feel for it by the time I get home. I tried a couple times to sit down at the computer at home, but it is so damn cold in the basement I just get mad. There is nowhere practical to put it upstairs, the bedrooms are all full and the living and dining room, well, that would just look bad. Too crowded. I said the other day I wished I would have bought a 4 bedroom house. But I'm just bitter right now. PMS and all.

R's oldest has been pushing me lately. I don't know if she does it intentionally to see if she can scare me off, or if she is just being a brat in general. She does a lot of things I would have been skinned alive for had I done them at her age. Bad grades in school, and disrespect for every one and everything around her (no manners, calling people names, breaking her bed, coloring with marker all over her TV, hiding empty pop cans in her drawers and closet), and now she has managed to destroy her hair. Coloring it 3 times in 1 day? Not recommended. Especially when you are going lighter. Using bleach. So I get to be the one to rescue her. Um, excuse me, but she was in her mother's care at the time? How the hell did this happen?

Anyway, we took her to the beauty supply store so I could get filler and color and try to cover up the mess. Only to get home and find she has chemical burns all over her head. Why in the fuck was there no parental supervision during this??? When I was 14, I would not have been permitted to bleach my hair, without permission, without supervision. Until my mom finally let me use Sun-in - but I was afraid to use too much so my hair just turned kinda orange.

Needless to say, her hair is still bleach blond at the scalp, orange everywhere else, with some nice dark brown chunks mixed in. A few days later her mother called to tell R that her aunt said she can't color it at all and has to let it all grow out. Whatever. I really don't care. I didn't want to have to fix it anyway. If I would have not gotten it perfect, her ungrateful bitch mother would have just chewed me out (actually R, since she won't speak to me) for it instead of saying "Hey, thanks for trying to fix what is really my fault since I let her do whatever the hell she wants when she is in my care because I have no control." Or something like that.

But I think I'm just stressing because in a week they will be at our house for the whole month. Yes, I understand R has kids. Yes, I knew that going into the relationship. Yes, I know I just need to be patient and kind and understanding. I guess I just thought it would be a little different. I don't have kids, what do I know about parenting? But shit, at least let me have a little say in what goes on. I'm not trying to be selfish here, I'm just trying not to feel like such an outsider when they are at our house. We do what they want, we eat what they want, we watch what they want. Of course, He still gets to do what He wants. If He wants on the computer, fine. If there's a game to watch that's what we watch (did I mention that they both have TVs and VCRs in their rooms?) The only thing He can't do is go out without a sitter.

Now before you think I'm a total bitch, tell me how long you could live on hamburgers, chicken strips and spaghetti listening to cartoons or music that you don't really like coming from the living room television? Because that's about all they will eat and watch. I can't tell them to eat healthy snacks like my mom did. They aren't my kids. I can't tell them not to drink 5 pops a day because it's not good for them. Not my business. I can't say "Say excuse me" after they burp at the table. I can't tell them it's not nice to call people names. I don't even bother anymore. Ok - I did on Saturday - and it back fired. 14YO was bitching about wearing a coat when we were leaving to get dinner. Hello? It's 15 fucking degrees outside! She didn't even have a coat with her. I said if she didn't want to wear a coat, she could stay home. R says "No, she can't." Fine. Thanks for the support. Just trying to prove a fucking point. So R gives her one of my coats to wear . She takes it off in the Jeep on the way to the restaurant, then proceeds to bitch about the cold temperature inside the restaurant. I just sat there.

Now I get to be her chauffeur to school next month. That's nice. Can't wait. Glad I'm not a parent if this is how it feels. Oh wait - this isn't how it feels to a real parent. A parent feels love and joy and pride. A parent feels the right to be in control and make decisions. I just get to watch TV in my bedroom while SpongeBob or MTV blares in the other room, listen to fights and yelling and drive them around. Why wouldn't I look forward to that?

The good news is I go on vacation in March. I will damn sure need it.

Oh, and I will be so glad once this PMS crap is over with. Ugh.

2 Comments:

Blogger evilsciencechick said...

You know, I know they're R's kids and all, but he has to understand that they can't just walk all over you both. You have rights, too. Are they in your house? I can't remember if you live with R, or if he lives with you. Because if it's your house, you can invoke my "my house, my rules" law. Talk it out with R first, of course. You have to do this, though. You're going to be their stepmom, whether they like it or not, and you can't have them running the place.

Put your foot down, this is NOT the time to be submissive!

7:51 PM  
Blogger Cootera said...

I agree with ESC. Put your foot down, set the rules, and put your other foot down. That said and done, dust off your armor... sounds like you're in for a hell of a ride. Just remember, they're never going to respect you if you give them a reason to. GOOD LUCK!!

P.S. And shave that silly girl's head.

5:14 PM  

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