Remember Me?

The following post was drafted in 2014. A lot has happened since then. 

Are you surprised? 

Yeah, me neither. 

Maybe I'll find the focus to catch you up on the last 5 years. In the meantime, this will have to suffice as I am exhausted from trying to recall email addresses and passwords associated with this blog.

***
I have no idea where the past year has gone.

They say time flies when you are having fun. But I wouldn't exactly call the last 12 months... FUN. It's been a challenging adventure for sure, and shows no signs of letting up.

Let's play catch up...

Cinderella is now 17 and a senior in high school. She was hospitalized a third time over the Christmas holiday, at her request... vis a vis a note which I found on my desk one Friday morning after she had already left for school:

I immediately texted her at school. She was ok. She was grateful and relieved to know that she had been heard and I had her back...as I always have. We would talk more when she came home after school.

I called the National Suicide Hotline.
I called her therapist.
I called Prince Charming.

All agreed she was not in any immediate danger. The note was her way of opening a dialogue. And talk, we did. I asked all the usual questions: How long have you felt this way? What triggered it? What have you been doing to cope? Did it come up in your weekly sessions with your therapist?

She felt she needed to go back into the hospital. Spending the weekend with Prince Charming was important so she could go shopping for gifts for her family. It was a week before Christmas. She knew she would spend it in the hospital so she wanted to make sure her gifts would be under our trees.

Her hospital stay was an absolute CLUSTERFUCK of mismanagement by an inexperienced social worker who was put in charge of her case.  In the interest of brevity I'll spare you the details other than to say there were MANY phone calls between myself, Prince Charming, the social worker and Director of the hospital to thwart an early discharge the day AFTER Christmas. There may have been some yelling involved. And a letter. And numerous apologies from Administrative staff assuring us that while there were no do-overs for Cinderella, steps would be taken to ensure this doesn't happen again to another family.

Cinderella spent two weeks in the hospital, and another two weeks in a day program in an effort to solidify the skills she had learned and give her greater chances for a success re-entry back into normal life. In the months following, she has stumbled a bit. And recovered. And stumbled a bit more. But I am happy to report amidst the minor setbacks she has successfully ended a toxic relationship, attended an event for accepted students to one of her chosen colleges and registered for classes/inquired about housing/researched financial aid all on her own (well, ok that involved some gentle pushing on my part) and has maintained an 80+ average in ALL of her classes.

Yes, I am proud.

(And yes, I still sleep with all of the OTC drugs, razors and knives in my bedroom.)

A New Normal?

Cinderella is home (YAY!)...with bright shiny new meds and a 60 year old psychiatrist with tattoos, piercings and gauges in his ears (Eww...but, KEWL!).

My butterfly has now faded and I am hopeful that I won't have to draw another one.

(HOWEVER, I am considering getting one TATTOO'd on my arm for her. I owe her a tattoo after getting an ambigram for her brother and sister after Prince Charming and I separated, and the symbolism of TRANSFORMATION seems fitting.)

In the meantime, I have hidden all of the Tylenol, Advil, cold medications and razors in the house.

This is normal, right? A new normal that the parent of a suicidal teen should expect?

And...MORE IMPORTANTLY...these fears will fade.

RIGHT?

The Butterfly Project

Last week, I drew a butterfly on my arm in support of Cinderella, courtesy of The Butterfly Project.

While it may not have stopped her from cutting THIS TIME, I believe it did reinforce the message of my unwavering support of her struggles...which is what ultimately allowed her to confide that she tried to commit suicide days earlier. And why she was brave enough to tell me that SHE NEEDED HELP and wanted to be hospitalized because she felt she was at risk of harming herself even more.

There is no ONE solution to the issues of teen depression, suicide and self-harming behaviors. The Butterfly Project is just one resource. All we can do as parents is to remain diligent in our research, finding new ways of educating ourselves and our teens, loving them IN SPITE OF their struggles. Of helping them to take flight ABOVE their challenges.

If you, or someone you know, is carving, scratching or cutting to cope with their INTERNAL pain... please know there is support and help available. Or you could try calling an information only line at 1-800-DONT-CUT.

And then maybe, draw a butterfly or two on your own arm as a show of support.

Slaying the Dragon

We're our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves. -Tom Robbins

I could attempt to write a more eloquent blog post, but there is no poetic way of discussing depression, self-mutilation and attempted suicide in teens.

None.

Cinderella is back in the hospital, people.

She's struggling as so many teens (and adults) do. Trying to slay her own dragons. These dragons have resulted in two failed attempts at OD'ing  in the last week and NEW battle wounds along her arms and legs.

In the past four months since moving in with me, there is NO DOUBT that Cinderella has grown stronger. So much stronger than she was here and here. I'm infinitely proud of my big girl - of her strength, her grace and her hard-earned wisdom about life. I've tried reminding her that she's not alone and make a home for her where she can feel safe to just... BE.

But it's just not enough. Not yet. Not completely. The dragons keep telling Cinderella LIES. Lies that have her believing she's not worthy and unlovable and carving her own scarlet letters of self-loathing into her beautiful skin.

Cinderella is in a safe place now where she can gain even more strength to slay her dragons and rescue herself FROM herself. While driving home from visiting her last night, this song came on the radio...it's sort of become the soundtrack to this new chapter in our fairytale...it's so poignantly PERFECT:

I have no doubt that she will make it. I have to believe that, for the alternative is...well, NOT AN OPTION. Not in this fairytale.

In the meantime, I continue to surround her with love, encouragement, positive thinking and reminders that she is NOT ALONE. She and I are so very blessed to have friends who love her as much as I do and who do amazing things like devote a blog post to her. Please read it, and then follow the links to The Blogess' post on National Suicide Prevention Day. And then, please, SHARE IT so we can help others to slay their own dragons.

If you, or someone you know is in need of help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). And visit the National Council for Suicide Prevention for additional resources.

Small Rewards

Cinderella: "Sometimes, I wish you were my real Mom."

*sppppppllllleeeeooossssshhhhhhhhh*

(That's the sound of my heart exploding.)

That one statement has just made the past 13 years of struggles, tears, custody battles and rising ABOVE... most of which you all have seen documented here... worth it.

Period.

 

Oh, Bother.

You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.

~ Christopher Robin 

Cinderella's graduation from 8th grade was this past week. 
I did not attend.
It's been 5 weeks since she and Prince Charming moved out. I have not spoken with nor seen her (except in passing the few times I've picked up/drop off Hansel and Gretel from their Dad's house).
I feel I've let her down. I can't help but think even though she has not spoken with me, never gave me the Mother's Day gift her Dad took her to get (where it did go, is a mystery to me, but I do have a guess) and has not asked to come see me, that she might have searched the crowd for me that day only to be disappointed with the realization I was not there teary eyed and with camera in-hand just as I did for her sister the week before.
My guilt abounds as only a mother can inflict on herself for failing her children.
So... Christopher Robin, I feel neither brave, nor strong, nor smart right now.

***

In searching for an appropriate quote to end this post, I found the rest of the above quote:

...but the most important thing is, even if we're apart...I'll always be with you.

Yes, Cinderella. I was with you that day, even if you didn't see me. My thoughts and my heart were celebrating with you, surrounding you, bursting with pride for you. And I was teary eyed as I walked at your side as you accepted your diploma searching the crowd for your two other parents, who were there teary-eyed and with cameras in hand.

The Biology of Divorce REDUX

Our 10-month in-house separation has been growing increasingly challenging, especially for Cinderella who is stuck in the middle of yet ANOTHER divorce.
Torn between her desire to remain loyal to me (her primary care giver for the past 10 years) and her mother who is making every attempt to alienate my stepdaughter from me.
Attempts are being made to undermine my authority. Trash talk continues.
I noticed on her visitation days with Maleficent, Cinderella's mood towards me was colder and more defiant. It started in the mornings before she left for school, continued when she came home and rushed to do her homework before Maleficent was due to arrive. It followed her back home after being dropped off as she stomped around the house getting ready for school the next day.
The next day, she was always fine.
Her hostility fueled my own insecurities. I found myself becoming defensive and angry.
(Yes, after ten years I still question my parenting abilities, take things personally and lay the mother guilt on myself nice and THICK.)
It was time to have a (step)mother/daughter talk.
I am sure you must be feeling anger towards Dad and me. You are probably hurt and confused because here you are going through ANOTHER divorce. And I am sure there is something going on when you are at Mom's but I don't want to make things worse by pressuring you to talk to me. It hurts me to see you suffering. I only hope that you will try to talk to someone about what's going on.
As is par for the course, that's all she needed me to say. My suspicions were confirmed, her loyalities are being challenged and she is being torn apart by this.
I reassured her as best as I know how. Mostly by example. Prince Charming and I struggle to find common ground, to get along for the kids' sake and make a point of making sure that they SEE it because it's one thing for us to tell them, but it's a whole other thing for them to LIVE it.
While I can empathize with Maleficent and why she behaves where He is concerned, I don't agree that that's the answer. Not after all the pain I have seen it cause. Lord knows he doesn't always make it easy, but still...

My mantra these days is: Love your kids more than you hate your ex.

What Do You Get...

... when you cross a teenager and an iPod Touch (with enabled wifi)?

The start of a horror story you hear about on Dateline or Maury Povich complete with private chats of an inappropriate nature with strangers of questionable age (and even gender).
I've been asked not to tweet or post about this because the Internet doesn't need to know about His daughter but I'm doing it anyway because ... well, it's *my* blog.
But, that's not the real reason. I do so not to embarrass Cinderella, or to spite anyone. I post this now because it's important to remind ALL parents (steps AND bio) of the importance of monitoring your children's internet usage. No matter how insignificant you might think it is, it can be a recipe for disaster.
Even the best parent needs a reminder every now and then.
If you are not familiar with an iPod Touch and all of it's capabilities, it's basically a mini-computer. So when your otherwise good kid is locking him/herself in their room "playing games" on their "iPod" you need to know that they may be ON TEH INTERNETZ and that means people of ALL KINDS are also playing these games and therefore have access to your good kid. AND!!! that said games also have private chat capabilities (remember the early days of a/s/l checks? Umm...YEAH! 'nuff said.).

BUT, if you are lucky (and YES there is also an upside to this otherwise craptastic and stomach turning experience) you might also get validation that you are doing a good job when, as you scour though the chat and email history, you happen across a statement made by your kid such as: "I'll [send it] tomorrow because my Dad is home then and he doesn't watch me."
You bet your ASS I'm going to be watching you.

The Biology of Divorce (Post Script)

The Law Guardian did see through Cinderella's smoke screen and knew she was also being coached by her mother, BUT, she was put in place to protect Cinderella and if Cindy said she was scared to come home, then the LG had no choice but to allow her to stay at Maleficent's for that one night.
(Consequently, Cinderella did try the same crap a week later, again while at Maleficent's, but was told NO DICE by her LG.)

Whatever his personal feelings were for (or against) me, Prince Charming at least agreed that he and I needed to talk to Cinderella's TOGETHER about what took place.
For me, it was to show us as a continued united front and let her know that the issue of her disrespect was not acceptable.
For him, it was to "get to the bottom of things."
Three days later, the three of us sat in the living room after her return from her weekend visit with Maleficent. Cinderella on one couch, me on the other and Prince Charming on the floor between us.
(Talk about a house divided. So much for a UNITED front.)
He had very little to say, instead turning to Cinderella and I to drive the conversation.
I took over. I was the other parent after all.
I told her how I felt. She told me how she felt. She admitted to going a bit far by calling the LG and acknowledged that the real issues were her attitude and lack of accountability for not doing her chores.
I apologized. She apologized.
Tears were shed on both sides as I told her how much I loved her like she was one of my own and that we sometimes all say things in anger that we don't mean.
(Like when she tells her brother and sister "I'LL KILL YOU" if you do this one more time or say that again.)
His presence was quickly forgotten. This was between Cinderella and me anyway. It started with us, and it needed to end WITH US.

It took me a while to realize this was NOT a Stepmother/Stepdaughter issue because yes, like so many others (some of whom have shared their opinions on this very blog), I am too quick to judge my actions and assume the worse of myself. I immediately jump to the conclusion that I truly *am* the Wicked Stepmom and how dare I show my HUMAN side and let this child who is not my own get the better of me. Surely if she were my biological child I would have reacted differently. Right? RIGHT???
Umm... get real.
This, my pretties, was a simple matter of parenting of a TEEN.
Cinderella is my first teen. She is our oldest child. And like many other parents of teens know, there is no preparing for it, no filter strong enough to protect you from those first eye rolls and head shakes and snarky comments. Limits will be pushed, standoffs will occur, battles will ensue and eventually your skin thickens, your hearing becomes selective and you learn when to walk away, how to ignore and pick your battles.
Our relationship will wax and wane like any parent/teenage relationship will, and with any luck, come full-circle again one day.

(Parts I & II)

The Biology of Divorce II

Continued from here.

Maleficent eavesdropped on overheard Cinderella's call to her Law Guardian and, well, you can just IMAGINE her reaction.
The law guardian called Prince Charming. He called me to find out what happened, but with our current "situation" he was less interested in hearing what I had to say.
(He admitted his first reactions were "Who the fuck does she think she is." "Cinderella is MY daughter, not hers.")
The law guardian allowed Cinderella to stay at Maleficent's that night because I was home with the kids and Prince Charming wasn't. (It was my "custody" day of our in-house separation.)
The following week, school guidance counselors and social workers were involved thanks to persistent phone calls by a revenge-driven Maleficent. She wanted CPS called in to investigate.
Prince Charming was overwhelmed with phone calls and battled his personal feelings towards me as he tried to reassure EVERYONE (mostly himself) that things had been blown out of proportion.
In a single phone call, Cinderella became her mother, alienating and vilifying me.
Prince Charming called the house for the days that followed asking Cinderella how she was while never ONCE asking ME if things had improved with HER behavior.
A discipline problem with a teenager became something ugly and hurtful.
Loyalites and lines were drawn left me feeling like it was THEM against ME.
Thirteen years of struggling and fighting to do what's best for Cinderella seemed to have been tossed aside and meant nothing.
Biology won out over the truth and fairness.
I felt hurt and betrayed.

But...so is Cinderella.
She is going through yet another divorce. The family she has known for the past ten years is breaking up and changing.
She feels her Dad doesn't want to be here.
She thinks she will not see me again.
She expects (though we keep reassuring her to the contrary) that her Dad and I will engage in daily battles like her mother has.
And now she has to endure more of Maleficent's hatred of me as she does everything she can to make sure Cinderella has NOTHING to do with me after our divorce.

She is thirteen.
And all that that implies people.

A New Chapter

I know, I know.
It's been a while and you're wondering "Now why don't she write?"
If you've stuck around long enough to catch this update, I thank you.
I hope I do not disappoint.

The castle has been filled with turmoil since March.
Several court dates took place with no solution to the problems at hand. Prince Charming let Maleficent get away with continued violations to her visitation stipulation for reasons only he can explain.
Now Cinderella has to face the judge and explain in her own words what she has been subjected to over the past several years. She has had months to think about it, and the reality of what's at stake has had ample time to sink in. Whether she has the strength to be as truthful with the judge as she has been with us remains to be seen.
The verdict will be in on Monday.
***
In the meantime, I have started a new chapter to my fairytale - one in which the second wife becomes the ex-wife.
I do not know what this means for my blog though at present I can see it creating a whole new perspective on stepparenting - as I have no intentions of dropping out of Cinderella's life and Prince Charming and I hope to work out an amicable custody/visitation schedule that accommodates all three of our kids.
Much needs to be sorted - most importantly my head.
I hope you will understand my absence a bit more and forgive my erratic posting schedule as I do not know how to wrap my head around what needs to get done.
I have been through divorce once before with Prince Charming, fighting WITH him shoulder to shoulder AGAINST Maleficent.
Now it's my turn.
Oh, the irony.

It's Lonely At The Top

The problem with taking the High Road when it comes to dealing with Maleficent, is that I am oftentimes alone.
Alone with my inner struggle of doing what's best for Cinderella versus wanting to slap the crap out of her "mother" for creating such turmoil in everyone's lives.
Alone while I watch my stepdaughter struggle to accept the reality of WHO and WHAT her mother is and HOW to deal with that (while not contributing to that opinion by speaking ill of Maleficent in front of Cinderella. EVER.).
Alone in not being able to protect Cinderella as situations like last Friday unfold, after sending Cinderella to her Mom's for the weekend, sans her bathing suit.

Maleficent and Diablo SPED back up our street BACKWARDS and sent Cinderella inside to claim her bathing suit.
Her facial expression spoke volumes. Cinderella did NOT want to come back inside. She did NOT want to go swimming because she had her period. Not because I said no.
But Maleficent had turned it into a battle or HER vs. ME. It was no longer about what Cinderella might have wanted. It was about Maleficent getting HER OWN WAY and Cinderella was going to get that bathing suit dammit!
Cinderella asked me for guidance on what to say to her Mom. She knew she HAD to go for the weekend, even though she no longer wanted to. I tried my best to help her with the right words, but nothing any of us could have said at that moment would make any difference.
I reminded Cinderella simply that she had her period and could not go swimming.
It didn't matter WHO was asking to take her - be it a girlfriend or Maleficent - she could not go THIS weekend. Period. (Pun intended.)
And then I told Cinderella that Maleficent could talk to Prince Charming about it if she felt it was that important. He was, afterall, the final say on this and if he felt it was OK, then she could come back and get her suit.
(I was hoping this would somehow take the pressure off and protect Cinderella. I was wrong.)
From the curb, Maleficent's rage could be heard by my neighbors AND Cinderella's 6 year old brother and friends who were playing outside.
WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT ASSHOLE THINK HE IS?!?! HE HAS SOME NERVE!!
THAT FUCKING BITCH.
(And so on.)
Cinderella told us her mother ranted for the entire car ride home. Mostly to herself because no one else was responding.
Cinderella was also subjected to hearing her mother tell her that she WILL NOT buy her anything EVER AGAIN because SHE bought the bathing suit for Cinderella and that money could have been better spent on bills.
Huh? No one is holding the bathing suit hostage.
Once again the lines of reality have been blurred in the midst of Maleficent's bipolar tantrums.
Cinderella told us that she holed herself up in her bedroom for the rest of Friday night. Waiting out the end of her mother's tirade which eventually came to an end and she was able to enjoy the rest of her weekend.
(With the exception of when her mother took her swimming anyway, despite Cinderella's protests, and forced the poor girl to go into the pool. Ooh. Ahh. I guess she showed me, huh?)
Cinderella was glad to be home come Sunday night. Glad to be able to talk to us about what happened and to do a little venting of her own.

I am sure that to many the simple solution would have been to let Cinderella take the bathing suit.
That this ALL could have been avoided if I had just given in.
That it's MY fault. The Wicked Stepmom who had no right saying "no."
That, indeed, I am too big for my britches.
But to anyone who has been following my journey will know that NOTHING will guarantee peace with Maleficent.
And lord knows how I have tried.
Giving in to avoid conflict only prolongs the inevitable temper tantrum and downward spiral that always comes from an untreated manic depressive.
This was not about ME vs. Maleficent. It had nothing to do with her at all.
It was a simple lesson that most woman have learned at one time or another. Unfortunately, this was Cinderella's time to learn that being a woman sometimes ain't all it's cracked up to be.
It's simple biology. You can't argue with that.
Except...when it comes to parenting. Because I have learned over the years that there is much MORE to parenting than simple BIOLOGY.
Just because I am not Cinderela's BIOLOGICAL parent, does not mean that I do not have any of the responsibilities that come with parenting her.
And I will never stop doing that. No matter how many times I am challenged.
I am a hard-ass.
I am not going to back down over of a matter of simple biology.

Yes, Magic Grits Exist Fairytales Too

Maleficent: Bring your bathing suit this weekend because I have a free swim pass.

Cinderella: Ok, Mom. Oh, no... wait. I can't. I have my period.

Maleficent: Oh, that's ok. You can still swim, the bleeding stops in the water.

***

Umm...
WHAT?!?!?
Is she fecking KIDDING me???
I wanted to call Maleficent on the phone and issue a My Cousin Vinny-esque cross examination:

"So, Maleficent, how is it that your vaj does not bleed in pool water when the same can not be said for the entire menstruating world?
I guess the laws of physics cease to exist in your girly bits (just as the laws of reason cease to exist in your melon). Do you have a magic vajayjay? Is your Aunt Flo the same broad who sold Jack his beanstalk beans?"

I refrained, cuz you know how I like to take the high road and all.
But, you can bet your ass I did NOT let Cinderella leave this house with a bathing suit in hand.
Cuz... EWWW.

Thank You for Smoking

There is nothing worse than a reformed smoker.
I admit it. I do.
I can't stand to be within 5 miles of the nastiness.
I can smell it on your clothes, on MY clothes after I've been in your house, on your breath, even your fingers if you get too close to me.
And yes I *do* judge you.
I stand upon my soap box and lecture for hours on end the evils of your way.
Your teeth are yellow. You have premature wrinkles. You do not look cool or attractive AT ALL.
Why would you want to do that to yourself? To your family?
And GOD forbid... your kids?!?! Yes I SCREAM AT YOU FROM THE TOP OF MY LUNGS AT YOUR STUPIDITY!!!!!!!
(On the inside.)
(Except for my husband who is bad at hiding it and despite being caught and confronted years ago still refuses to officially admit his weakness to me. *Him* I will scream at OUT LOUD.)

I have recently found myself feeling the same judgment when I read some other stepmom blogs.
(No... not *your* blog silly. Someone else's blog.)
I see these Moms going through the same power struggles as I did, getting upset over the same trivial stuff and wonder WHY OH WHY! are they allowing themselves to sink down to that level?!
The whining. The justifications as to why they are BETTER than their stepkids' BioMom. The blaming of BioMom for ALL of their troubles.
I bring out my soap box again and yell at my computer screen OMG, GET OVER IT ALREADY!

And then I remember...

While I hope it is much less in frequency than it used to be, I do the same thing.
Fuck this blog was nothing but one giant BITCHFEST in the beginning.
It was is my place to vent. Safely. Without judgement.
And it's the reason I have been able to find my way and figure out how to cope with my situation with Maleficent.
I don't know if I have it figured out for good, but I've got it FOR NOW.
I eventually reached a point when I was tired of being angry all the time. Tired of laying the blame on a person whose actions I could not control.
This blog is how I was able to reach the conclusion that I cannot control Maleficent.
But I CAN control my reaction to her.
Where I became committed to making this work (l'est I become committed!)
Where I made the first steps to reach out to her.
To establish communication. Try to allow her to get to know me.
And where I stood up for myself while validating her role as Cinderella's mother.
I know I was able to do this through the support and understanding of other Stepmoms.
Those who have "been there, done that" and those who are struggling to find there way.
They You all knew that I needed to vent. That I did not need a judgmental lecture.
You listened and offered your gentle support and advice. You let me know I was not alone and that my feelings were normal and that I was doing a good job (even if I didn't think so).

So, thanks for the refreshing reminder of what it was like for me and of how far I've come.
You will get there too, one day.
You *will* get there TOO.
Be it by reaching out, detaching, or some other method that I have yet to discover.

Anyone have a light?

A Step Away

Diablo is driving.

I remember the last time I spoke to Maleficent car-side I had ignored him. It wasn't intentional. I was so focused on having a pleasant conversation with Maleficent that I forgot he was even there.

Still I felt bad for my rudeness later on.

I decided that I wasn't going to do that again today.

I would be polite. Say hello or acknowledge him in some way.

He ... apparently had other plans.

Throughout my entire conversation with Maleficent he avoids eye contact.

He is looking down. Fidgeting.

"We have the DVD of Cinderella's play for you. We can give it to you later if you want."

Oh that's great. Thank you so much for copying it for me.

(Maleficent missed the play due to emergency surgery that day.)

I glance over at Diablo. He is sitting in the driver's seat looking down at his feet. At his lap. Out the window.

I try to include him in the conversation when I make the offer to drop Cinderella off at her place after summer camp.

"I have to pick up Hansel anyway and I know sometimes Diablo has your car. So it's really no trouble."

Yeah, his schedule is sometimes a bit crazy.

Maleficent glances over at Diablo but he neither makes eye contact nor offers her any acknowledgement.

He appears to be seething in anger.

He curls his lips and wipes the sides of mouth like some angry thug trying to control his temper but is teetering dangerously close to opening a can of whoop-ass on someone.

I fear that someone might be me.

Prince Charming has witnessed first-hand what *type* of guy Diablo is.

He's the kind of guy who tries to use physical intimidation when he feels threatened. Or if he suspects a loved one is being threatened.

He is the antithesis of Prince Charming using his "boxer" title to show-off and bully.

The chest-bumping finger-pointing-in-your-face kind of guy.

I have never liked that trait.

I like it even less knowing that my stepdaughter is in such close proximity to it and knowing that this guy is one step away from being her Stepfather.

Custody & Visitation: Transportation "Responsibilities"

I waved as I drove past the house. 

Their waves were as much an expression of their gratitude as much as their happiness.

Five minutes later my cell phone rang.

Hi WSM. I wanted to thank you again for driving Cinderella here. I know you are now rushing to make it to your appointment but I really, REALLY appreciate it.

"Oh, it's no problem really."

Well, I am grateful because I know you didn't *have* to do it.

Maleficent was right. 

Legally transportation for her visitation days is not my responsibility. Court documents put the onus entirely on her shoulders.

And then there's the "all-of-the-responsibilities-none-of-the-rights" argument that plagues stepparents. 

Gah!

Technically I didn't have to drive Cinderella anywhere. But emotionally. Morally, I *had* to. 

Ten minutes earlier my 11 year old stepdaughter was in tears after just learning that her mother would not be able to pick her up for one of their twice weekly visits. 

I was heading out anyway. So what was the big deal to leave 10 minutes earlier?

Are you sure? I don't want you to have to take the kids out in this [rainy] weather. 

"It's no big deal. Hansel and I have a 5:30 chiropractor appointment so we were leaving in a few minutes."

But will that make you late for your appointment? I just feel so terrible, we hate to lose time with each other and I had no idea I would be stuck without a car but my time with her is so preshus already... but are you sure you don't mind? Will the doctor's office take if you you are late?

(Well if you stop ASKING me if I was sure and let me GET OFF THE PHONE DAMMIT I will be able to make my appointment.  My moments of compassion and empathy for you are fleeting, woman. Don't make me lose sight of WHO I am doing this for by making it all about you.)

(GAH!)

I was late. But who cares. I called ahead to the chiropractor's office and there was no problem.

Maleficent thanked me profusely on the phone, in her maniacal waves as I drove away and then again when she called me on my cell as I was rushing to our appointment in between reaming Prince Charming a new one for not listening to his voice mail sooner.

But most importantly, Cinderella was happy.

I may not be responsible for the visitation transportation, but I am responsible for her happiness.

In the end, that's all that matters.

Putting the HOME Back in Homework

The last school quarter we have been faced with the realization that Cinderella had not been completing her homework.
Her recent grade and progress reports SCREAM of her irresponsibility and poor choices over the past 6 months.
Yep, six months.
You heard me.
For SIX months she has been choosing not to complete class assignments, as well as skipping her private (required) violin lessons at school.
I know what you are wondering, why have you allowed this go on for so long?
I didn't.
We didn't. Because we didn't know.
At Middle School orientation, parents were advised NOT to check up on their children's homework assignments as we had been required to do in elementary school.
They need to learn responsibilitiy, they said.
It will prepare them for high school, and college, and... LIFE.
(I did not attend this orientation, BTW. But her parents did. And yes, I questioned that rationale but that's what they and now I was beng told to do. So I did it.)
And then... the report card came.
Capable of doing better work. Inconsistencey in classwork. Grades reflect a lack of homestudy.
Her teachers had a lot to say.
We questioned her as to why. And were met with the answer that EVERY parent of a middle-schooler gets: "I don't know."
Oh, how I love that answer.
For a while, I even tried it on for size.
WickedStepmom? Where are my clean clothes? "I don't know."
Can you take me to the mall to spend my gift card? "I don't know."
Remarkable!
The freedom! The lack of accountability that those three little words offered was liberating! No wonder she used it. All. Of. The. Time.
Yeah, well no anymore.

Cinderella, dearie. I'll tell you what *I* know. 

You WILL go to each of your teachers and request for ALL the past due assignments.

You WILL complete these over-due assignments THIS week (even though the time for you getting any credit for them has long passed).

You WILL start writing EVERY assignment down in your assignment pad.

You WILL ask for extra credit work.

You WILL stay for any and ALL extra study sessions.

And *I* WILL be checking your assignment pad and you homework EVERY DAY.

(Oh yeah, and Drama Club is OUT for the rest of the school. You see, most of these assignments were NOT done in favor of going to, and socializing at, rehearsals even though she had every possible opportunity to complete them during the abundant downtime she had as an ensemble cast member. Final curtain call! Take your bow and get off the stage. For this year.)

Three weeks, numerous calls and emails to her teachers and guidance counselors later, her grades are all back into the 80s. 

YAY!

Her guidance counselor called just prior to Spring Break to praise Cinderella's efforts and to let us know of her progress.

I was proud. Prince Charming was proud. Maleficent was proud.

Cinderella was especially proud.

With this kind of turn-around, she has the potential to finish the year strong. 

You're damn straight she will.