Teenagers and cellphones

SD finally got her phone back this week. DH and I went online with our cellphone provider and signed up for the parental controls for her phone. He and I went through each control and discussed appropriate limitations and such. We decided on the following:

- Block the 17 year olds number, obviously if we find out she is communicating with him through his cousin or anyone else, those people will get blocked as well.
- Allow DH and my cellphone numbers to get through at all times.
- Block all texting and phone calls past 9 PM on school nights.
- Block all data usage and for some reason if she were able to access the internet (which she shouldn't cause I have that blocked seperately), only allow age appropriate sites.
- Maximum of 3,000K text messages per month

Now all these are really duh, but apparently BM texted DH yesterday throwing a hissy fit about the text message limit. Saying it was too high....

Umm...first of all, WE PAY FOR THE MOTHER FING PHONE. Whatever limits WE come up with are NONE OF YOUR FING CONCERN.

Second of all, we don't expect her to actually USE 3k in text messages a month. We all have unlimited. However, we capped it at that because while we don't expect her to use that much, there has been one or two instances where she's texted like 5 or 6k. We thought 3k was a reasonable amount to cap it off at. She really shouldn't be using more than that.

The kid is 13. And FEMALE. She never actually TALKS to anyone on the phone, she just texts. Hell, I use about 2k a month in texts just because I hate talking on the phone. And I'm 31.

The sad thing is that I'm just so irritated over the whole phone issue that I considered just telling DH to just cancel the stupid phone and let BM take it over.

I understand that BM is the kids mother. But, WE pay for this kid to have a cellphone. We don't ask for any reimbursement. We don't deduct it out of her child support. We pay for it because WE want to. We put what WE think are reasonable restrictions on the phone due to SD's recent behavior. In my opinion, I don't think BM gets to question to restrictions since she isn't financially responsible for it.

There is a simple solution BM, if you don't like the phone, take it from her when she walks in the door, set it on the counter and don't let her have it back until she walks out the door again. Simple.easy.tidy. I see people do this day in and day out on both sides of the fence. It just drives BM nuts that she has no control over the phone. She can't freaking stand it.

In the end, I didn't say anything to DH. But honestly, I'm tired. I know BM well enough by now to know that it doesn't matter WHAT we do, if it isn't done to "her" specifications, it's not going to be good enough. Neither DH or I are going to be helicopter parents. We give reasonable restrictions based on a child's actions. Period. That's not going to change. I honestly think a judge would agree with us but what do I know?

Rock meet hardplace

I am so torn and irritated.

SD has five absences, 10 tardies. God only knows how many SS has.

Of the absences, only ONE, was because SD was actually sick.

I logged onto the school website today and see she's missed 1st period. Then at lunch, I log on again and there are absences for 1st through 5th period.

Guess who's not in school today....

God only knows the reason THIS time, but I swear to god if the BABY is the reason, and when she actually DID wake up she just didn't feel like taking them, I'm going to be tempted to choke a bitch.

I mean, what do we really do? WE are the address for the school, so even if we explain the situation to a truancy officer, and give them BM's addy, there's no guarantee that anything will actually come of it.

Should we take her to court, she'll probably play the poor pitiful me card, I live all the way across the city and I just had a new bbbbaaaaaby and I can't get the kids to school on time. Then the judge will switch them to HER schools because they buy her bullshit excuses.

Hell, sometimes I wonder if she's not doing this shit on PURPOSE so she can have an excuse in court to get them in her schools. I try not to give her too much credit but she's proven herself to be a giant manipulative bitch.

We are truly between a rock and a hard place...

What you can't control, you should let it go!

This is what I keep repeating to myself over and over again lately, ever since BM had her baby.

She did take SS out of daycare and is picking him up directly from school everyday. SD is riding the bus on our days only. It'll be interesting to see how many tardies they rack up this week though, since BM's mom took them to school last week on her days.

I have DH carrying his papers just in case, but there weren't any issues on our days about when he went to pick them up.

As it gets closer to Xmas though I wonder when and if she's going to try to hit us with schedule change conversation again. I thought we had made it fairly clear that we weren't interested in the end and I'm pretty sure SD has made it clear she's not interested in that either anymore but we'll see.

But that's not the point of this entry.

Last night, I had a nightmare that she called and wanted to change the schedule by like an hour or something. Seriously. And I blew up in the dream, was like raging in the background while DH was on the phone with her about how selfish she was and how we weren't doing anything to convienence her. THEN, I grabbed the phone from him and started raging at her directly.

Needless to say, it was not a pleasant dream.

But when I woke up (to the wind whipping around the eves of the house at 2:30 AM, brrrrr) it just reminded me that I'm letting her wind me up for no reason. I can't control ANYTHING she does. I'm working progessively to letting it all go.

Hopefully by the end of this run, with only seeing her briefly for like a drop off or pick up on one day for the next 11 weeks, it'll be better. Honestly, this ISN'T my fight anyway, it's DH's. I'm just the backup, to make sure she's not running him over.

I think her absence is going to do me some good.

Let's all blame the SM!

I'm always looking for a reason if BM is being nice and cordial. I'm always thinking she's up to something. Just generic, given her behavior to us over the past few years.

But sometimes, I think SD goes and does shit on purpose to make her mother hate me. Yesterday, BM told SD that she was going to pick them up from school. I told SD that I put her clothes out from her Mom's and that she needed to either make sure she brought back what she wore over there or she needed to wear those clothes. She told me she was going to wear those clothes. I go to work, DH goes to work. All is good.

About a year ago, I was going through some of my clothes and getting rid of things. Well SD and BD went through the stack and picked out a few things. SD begged me for this ridiculously oversized Jager shirt from the Staind tour I went to several years ago. I gave it to her, and specifically told her that she could wear it as a nightshirt but she was NOT to wear it to school.

What does the kid do? She wore it to school yesterday. Of course, the SECOND she gets in her Mom's car, her Mom sends a text to DH "Why is SD wearing a Jager shirt???" and DH responds "I have no idea, when I left this morning she was still in her PJ's."

Guess who's getting blamed for that shit now? Yup..me. What the fuck ever dude, I mean, if it makes her feel so much better to make me out to be this giant bitch, more power to her, but still. SD isn't the type of kid that just forgets shit like that. She KNEW damn well that her mother would pitch a fit about the shirt. She KNEW damn well that her mother was picking her up from school. And I'm going to tell her as much this evening when I get home as well. And I'm going to make the comment that she may think I am stupid when it comes to this stuff, but I'm not. I try to stay out of the way as much as possible and if she's going to continue to make bad decisions, then she's going to continue to not be trusted.

The Unknown

Honestly, I hate being a worrier. Especially over stuff that really has no impact on me whatsoever. Stuff that I seriously cannot control and cannot change.

BM spawned last week.

We never know what to expect from her. She says one thing and then does something completely different. When SD started middle school, DH started picking up SS and BD and BM would just show up whenever she felt like it after work to pick them up on her days. That's been the norm for a year and half. When she was in school, she'd constantly dump them off on us because of some important thing she had to do for school, etc.

A few months ago, BM "advised" us that her tentative plan was to pick SS up directly from school everyday once she had her baby and that DH could pick him up from her house at 6 PM. That once she went back to work, the StepDad would pick him up from school and DH could pick him up from her house at 6 PM. Now of course, we reminded her (for the gazillionth time) that pickup is when he gets out of school, and even though DH is working, her attorney did talk the judge into changing HER summer pick-up time to 4 PM so DH should be able to pick up SS when he gets off work. As far as I know, SD would continue to ride the bus to our house on our days.

Immediately today I'm worried that she's going to try to pull something with the pickup time. Honestly, with the hustle and bustle, I don't even know if she's had time (though I figure to save $215 a month she probably did) to pull SS out of daycare yet. So there is a small chance that we'll have nothing to worry about this month at all. She didn't say anything once she was reminded but considering the amount of times we've HAD to remind her, there is no telling what she's got in her head.

Then on top of that, I feel bad that DH has to drive all the way over there to get SS. I know there is nothing we can do about her taking him out of daycare, considering that there is a parent available to care for him after school, it's understandable. A judge would think the same. My biggest continued worries are the baby is going to wake her up multiple times a night, leaving her missing her alarm in the morning and the kids are going to see a hefty increase in tardies. Then if she starts picking SS up from school, she is going to be busy with the baby, so SS is going to struggle with his homework and his grades are going to tank.

Then on top of that, there's a chance a million things could happen. It's sad that I hope that baby is a big hassle so she'll slack off and everything will go back to the way it is now, no matter how much joy it filled me with that I wouldn't even have to LOOK at her for twelve whole weeks. Hell, for all I know, this one might turn her mother gene back on and she'll actually step up and be a real parent.

I like knowing what's going on with my day to day. I like knowing what's going on with my husband's day to day. The same for the kids. I like knowing where they are, who's picking them up, dropping them off, etc. This is just such a pain.

My OCD is showing...*sigh*

Miracle

Ladies (and gents), I need your help.

A friend of mine that I've been friends with since high school has been struggling with fertility issues. Her husband and she want nothing more than to have their own precious bundle of joy to have and hold forever. Of ANYONE I have ever been around in my entire life, these two are probably the most perfect parents a child could ever ask for. In a world of surprise pregnancies and people getting prego to keep other people, these two just flat out DESERVE to have a baby. I honestly couldn't name a couple more deserving.

She has had two miscarriages and one etopic. All resulted in losses. They just started IVF and had to implant three eggs due to some complications. She got a positive test. Then the doctor called and told her that her betas weren't doubling as they should and she probably miscarried...

All of the sudden, when all hope was lost, they called and said WAIT, good news, your beta's went back up! So there is at least one baby in there. I need everyone, young and old, please, pray for my friend Kat. I have never met another woman stronger than her. I, personally, don't think I would have emotionally survived everything she has been through in this quest. Hell, I'm tearing up right now just thinking of her finally getting her takehome baby. So please, when you get a chance, send a prayer to whomever you pray to (ala, buddha, god, goddess, you get the picture) and please pray for her and her husband.

Thank you all.

Stepmom Overdrive

In real news, lol, a VERY good friend of mine wrote this and e-mailed it to me this morning. With her permission, I have posted it below as I honestly think it's too damn good not to share! This is how I feel with my stepdaughter almost all the time and just can't capture in words. Thank you Evenstar. You rock. xoxox.

Stepmom Overdrive

At thirty-seven and a half years old, I wonder about the years I’ve spent raising my two stepchildren, a girl, 14, and a boy, 11, and if it’s been time well-spent or if it’s been wasted years.

From the vantage point of my husband, it’s been time well-spent. My efforts have allowed him to concentrate on his own devices without the guilt of feeling like his children have been neglected of a mother-figure. I do all the mom stuff; the cooking, the cleaning, the nagging. It comes by instinct and I didn’t need any serious direction to get the essentials done. So, he lucked out in that department.

From the vantage point of my mother-in-law, her beloved grandchildren gained a surrogate mother to do the same things listed above. Add in the quotient of genuine love I have for my stepkids and the backbreaking labor I have performed for them, and she was able to rest assured her son and grandkids were receiving the best care I could possibly give them.

From the vantage point of the kids? Well, I guess it depends upon which era of their young lives you look to for an answer. When they were both younger, like, nine and six, they had someone to tend to them, mend their boo boos, fix them food, shuttle them to school and doctor’s appointments, work for their teachers, and basically pay attention to them.

My stepdaughter began to age as children are wont to do, and she started to look for more solidarity with her real mother, a woman who did not seek custody outside of an every other weekend visitation scheme, and my stepdaughter’s discontent and frustration began to manifest itself in new ways that I found very disconcerting. She didn’t want my micromanagement or constant tending, and although that was what had been the status quo for a handful of years, it was not going to play well with the emerging personality of my stepdaughter, and I had to reconcile with that after some painful reflection. These were the cards, and I could either play them or fold. I was not ready to fold.

My stepson on the other hand had only grown under my wing. Ironically, I did not believe that he and I would become close and when that relationship evolved into something much more intense than a step-parent/step-child stereotypical relationship I felt unprepared on a number of occasions of how viscerally protective I felt about him. Even to this day I am not sure where the line between biological parent and stepparent is drawn. I understand I am not his mother, but I sure do feel like his mother. I suppose it is as close to the real thing I will ever get.

The kids’ mother has had two additional children in the last four years, and although I do not want to focus on her for the duration of this essay, it is impossible to ignore her role in my life. It is also very easy to sling arrows at a person whom I disdain and have such judgmental feelings about, but my happiness is based upon my personal choices, and I only have control over my own choices. A couple of old friends wrote some essays about self control and I’ve recently reviewed them, leading to this narrative. So to them I’d like to offer my gratitude and hopefully again evolve and grow from this reflection.

See, although my steplife has not been perfect, it has, by comparison to others’, been quite ideal. The biological mother may rear her head Putin-style every blue moon, but her invasion is mostly psychological through the brainwashing she does to my stepdaughter who desperately needs to believe a redeeming narrative about her mother. A narrative that excuses all past transgressions, explains away all the non-cohesive story lines, fills in all the gaps. Generally these narratives portray the mother in a victim’s light, with my husband, and I guess by association, me, in the roles of grand oppressors and truth-benders.

This is where being the custodial stepmother has been my greatest asset, along with my natural drive to nurture and protect and love. My stepdaughter has history as her guide to the future, and her history with my husband and me is one of consistency, fruition of most promises, constant support and involvement.  If anyone, including my stepdaughter, wants to challenge me, I will refer to our track record and rest most content upon those laurels. There have been times, of course, wherein we have demonstrated our faulty humanity, but show me an intact first family where that hasn’t been the case and I will eat a bat.

I have sat literally for hours weaving explanations about why things aren’t as complicated as they may appear to a teenage girl. I try very hard to speak to her on a level that will not be considered condescending. Unfortunately, my stepdaughter must believe much of what I say, even though what I say often times are half-truths. Her mother has transgressed against her father in myriad documented ways (from third-party financial sources), court judgments have ruled against her, and finally, ultimately, the prima facie evidence that her mother has chosen not to pursue more custody of my stepdaughter and her brother. But am I allowed to communicate this evidence as a means to explain the strain between the households? No, I am not. As much as I would like to, especially during moments of duress, I cannot. It is not my place, and even if I did, this information would be received as hostility, jealousy, and a means of revenge. Some things children should not have to know about their parents, maybe not ever, maybe not until they are much older.

That doesn’t make living with it any easier. Especially with the mother placed on so high a pedestal. I could hold up the thousands of loads of laundry, dishes, trips to the doctor, school volunteering efforts, as evidence that I had nothing but the best interests of my stepchildren in mind. But all that effort seems to disintegrate the moment my stepdaughter boasts about the next big thing her mother has promised her. It is only within the dignity I try so hard to conduct in my own mind that it does not consume me.

I did not grow up from childhood thinking that my epitaph would read “Martyr.” And I do not want that to be my epitaph. Some days I have to tell myself that doing what I’ve been doing has helped my own mental health, that being with my husband is the redeeming factor in this arrangement, that I do live in relative comfort, and that I can take or leave my stepchildren’s loyalty and love. But this sense of injustice brews whenever I’m forced to hear their mother’s name or latest accomplishment. Because I’ve been doing what she should have been doing. And had she been responsible, her jet-set lifestyle would have had two very consequential burdens compromising her ability to just pick up and go whenever her job or social life called for it.

From my vantage point, almost six years in, I can say that I’m not quite a veteran, not quite a newbie, but still finding my way through a veil of confusion that has enough consistency as not to make everything a surprise. I know the tricks the mother will play, I know how to predict how my reactions will play out, I know when my husband will understand me and when he will be at a loss for words. What I cannot predict, however, is possibly the most painful: If the love and investment I have put into these children will show fruition beyond their needs they had as children and if when they are adults if I will be acknowledged in their upbringing. I can tell you from the pit of my soul this is what concerns me. I have no biological heirs, and it is possible that my personal possessions and legacy will be left in their hands. Since I am an atheist I know that when I am dead I will not have any faculties to feel rejection or the amnesia that exists with our dead loved ones. But I have no one to pass along the legacy of my own ancestors, and I fear that the mother’s impressions upon them will prevail to the point that my positive influences, traditions, idioms, and idiosyncrasies will have been in vain. And most importantly, that they were raised by a childless woman who wanted nothing but to be devoted to them, and that they are worthy of love from a woman who did not owe them that love.

Maybe you, Dear Reader, could construe this to be a selfish tirade by a childless woman, but I do not consider myself to be childless in that I have held the lives of two precious children in my hands. In all honesty, I am not very concerned about my legacy. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Soon all of us will be nothing but a number in some dusty annal kept on a digital file. And after that, in four billion years, the sun will devour the earth. All that matters is love.

I try very hard to remember this as I labor over dishes and laundry. If this is my purpose, then I will bear the burden of that. It’s just hard to believe that this was meant to be my fate. So much angst tethered to so much love. And that someone would so willfully give that away. I just can’t fathom it.

Evenstar