Step-family Talk

Happy Halloween!

As any divorced parent knows, holidays are bound to be filled with a few ex-fights. UGH. How I wish this wasn’t the case but unfortunately…

So last night I had a headache. Just a dull kind of ache. So we carved pumpkins and we watched Spiderman III and then I put the kids to bed and my husband and I watched License to Wed. A nice, simple night at home.

The problem?

I turned off my phone as soon as my husband got home and I plugged it into the charger. So I wasn’t bothered with any phone calls all evening and it was HEAVEN. This morning I turned on my phone and had two voicemails from the ex. The first was around six thirty and semi cordial. The second around eight o’clock was… let’s just say less than cordial.

This is the man I was married to. The one that demands and expects that it be done or else. And for nine years I was his beck and call girl. You say jump, I say yes sir, how high? Well guess what… Not anymore. Thank goodness.

I’m sure that I’ll get yelled at again when he decides to call me back but I’m not calling him. Yes, I know I’m being a baby and a brat or whatever but…urg

I am a supreme slacker in that I didn’t even think to buy pumpkins until last night. Okay well I thought about it but I didn’t want to buy them and have them go all gross and soft and rotten before Halloween, so I’ve been putting it off. When I picked up the boys from their Dad’s house Sunday they mentioned that he’d gotten them pumpkins but they hadn’t been able to carve them. I’m not sure why because I didn’t ask. I rarely ask for information about time spent with the ex, unless the volunteer it.

Anyway, that reminded me that I ought to buy pumpkins so last night I drove to the grocery store and surprise surprise they were totally out. Not even a gross, smushy pumpkin left in the whole joint. So I drove the five miles to the other grocery store in the smaller town next to us and they had slim pickens!

However we did manage to get three decent -huge- pumpkins but by the time we got home it was too late to start carving them.

On the agenda for tonight. Carve pumpkins.

I know that this time of year when we start doing all the holiday stuff it is really hard for my husband to be away from his kids so hopefully me and my kids will fill some of that gap for him this year.

My husband’s sisters want to get all the grandkids together to have a picture taken of them so we can give it to their parents for part of their Christmas present. I think it is a great idea and would make a beautiful picture, but…

You knew that but was coming, didn’t you. Here is where we hit a bit of a snag. Lately hubby’s ex hasn’t been sending all the kids on the weekends they are supposed to be with us. So it isn’t at all surprising for him to only come home with two or maybe three out of the four kids. Which absolutely sucks because it kills him when they don’t want to come. And as an ex-wife who always send all the kids I think it is complete and utter bullshit that she doesn’t. But that is another story entirely…

So we never know how many kids will be coming until he goes to pick them up. To further complicate things. My kids go with their dad every weekend because they want to and I’m nice like that, hehe. So in order for all our kids to be in the picture we have to wait til his all come and then try to figure out how to arrange it with my ex so that mine can be there. Ugh. Do you think any of this ever gets easier? I’m guessing no.

By the by, I know the picture is random. I took it this weekend on a little hike hubby and I went on.

I have been having the oddest dreams lately. Last week I dreamt I was a vampire who was being chased by a meaner breed of vampires. This could be because I just finished the Stephenie Myer Twilight series, but still, odd all the same, right?

But last night, last night takes the cake (at least until I dream something weirder). Last night I dreamt that my stepdaughters had both been kidnapped. In fact, in the dream I watched the kidnapping take place. I saw them being dragged off to another location that was full of stolen children. I wasn’t there there. I was more like I was watching through my mind or something. Maybe I had weird premonitions in my dream, lol.
Anyway, I drove to the house where I ‘knew’ they were being kept and I went in guns blazing. Okay maybe not blazing, but I did happen to have a very VERY large gun. This gun seemed to scare the criminals, though I’m not sure why since I was accompained by my three boys (8, 5, 4) Oh yes. I’m thinking I was downright terrifying.
But, they ran for the hills and I loaded the kids into my car and WOKE UP.

Thinking…what the hell was that all about?

I saw this on another blog. She had it listed as her Thursday Thirteen and I thought it was an adorable idea so I thought I’d do one of my own.

Loving…

1. The way my husband makes me feel like it is okay to be the real me. Enough the boring and kinda crazy parts.

2. Seven kids who always keep life interesting.

3. The fact that my hair is finally long enough to pull up into a ponytail.

4. I’m being paid to write. How great is that.

5. The secret that I’m not telling anyone.

6. My new ultra hydrating biolage shampoo.

7. That even though we are broke, I know we will figure out a way to make it all work.

8. The realization that perfect isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. What’s life without a few bumps and bruise and scars with great stories.

9. My red cell phone.

10. That my family is always there, regardless of how often we ignore each other.

11. The way my husband’s smile lights up the room and makes me giddy as a teenager.

12. The perfect pair of jeans.

13. Being kinda okay with life in general

being sick and tired. Yesterday morning I woke up and I was fine. The sun was shining, birds were singing or something closely resembling that. But twenty minutes later I was bent over a toliet bowl. Thankfully one that had been cleaned recently, but still not one of my finer moments. I hate being sick! Especially when it hits you like a teenager late for curfew.

Around two o’clock I finally felt human enough to shower. But just barely. I showered and put on clean pajamas and curled back up in my husband’s recliner, where my behind stayed firmly planted for the rest of the afternoon. The boys and I watched movie after movie. They colored pictures while I slept. It was definitely not my finest hour.

I looked a little more than rough when my husband got home from work. He kissed me on the forehead and said, ‘You look so cute all curled up in your jammies.’ Liar. But what a great lie.

I can’t say that I’d never met my husband’s ex wife before yesterday (when I re-met her) because we went to high school together. She was a class younger than me. We were never friends. Thankfully, cause that would be awkward on so many levels. But we did run in the same circles, which is to say some of her friends were my acquaintances.

So when my hubby asked me if I wanted to make the long trip with him to drop of the kids yesterday I was a little hesitant because I knew it would be this sort of awkward thing. We pulled up and the four kids hoped out of our car. A couple of them not even bothering to hug their dad good-bye and climbed into their mother’s car. The oldest is the only one who came around the car to hug me before he left. (I really love that kid.)

But after they got into their car, she came up to my husband and mumbled something and then she put on a happy face and peeked her head into our car. “Hi, how are you?” She said it in such a sugary sweet, head cheerleader kind of voice I nearly lost my lunch. I’ve heard her normal voice many times, in voicemails and such, and it sounds no where near that nice.

I was startled and weirded out, so I mumbled ‘good’ and smiled. She stood there like she was expecting me to strike up a conversation with her. Uh, no thank you.

To say the least it was a bit weird, but we’ve made it through worse, hehe.

It seems like on the weekends when my husbands kids are here we spend more money than the rest of the week combined. Which is fine and probably we would spend the extra money anyway just because it is the weekend. But I feel this big pressure to come up with something fun or exciting to do. And sadly the pressure is purely self induced, because I know no one really expects me to do all the planning. In fact, my husband would laugh because he thinks I never can make up my mind about anything.

Which is probably true. Anyway, I wish there was something we could do that wouldn’t cost a bundle of money. The kids like to go to the movies, which is always spendy. We’ve tried bowling, but it is like $4 a game. Times that by six to nine people. OUCH!

Our plan for this weekend was to go to the mountain where my dad has a small cabin. But then you have to figure for the gas and snacks and blah blah blah. Seems like I just can’t win with money. URgh

Sadly, I mean that in the most literal sense of the phrase. I’ve finally, with the help of my husband and my three boys, managed to finish cleaning the kids bedrooms. It always happens… I think we are about done and with one glance under the bed…BOOM, hours left of cleaning to do.

After sorting through the closets and the toy boxes and coming up with two trash bags of junk and two more trash bags full of things to take to Deseret Industries or the DI (as us locals call it), I thought it would be nice to put all the kids’ laundry in one huge basket. A tote actually. Unfortunately this was a monumentally bad idea.

What appears to be a monument of Mount Saint Helen’s made entirely of dirty clothes is now hogging up half the walking space in my upstairs hallway. It’s bad. Really bad. Really, really, really bad. Just looking at it makes me a little bit weak in the news. I seriously considered burning the lot of it on the front porch, but my better judgement prevailed and I decided eventually I would have to wash it all.

Thankfully the kids will all be here to put it away.

My husband and I have seven children total. I have three boys (ages 8, 5, and 4) and he has two boys (ages 8 and 7) and two girls (ages 6 and 5). If you’ve never seen that many kids jammed into a Suburban, let me tell you… It ain’t pretty. It is loud. It is terrifying. But pretty it is not. Seven children ages 8, 8, 7, 6, 5, 5, and 4. It even looks scary when it’s written down. But believe me it is much more frightening in person.

So our normal schedule is my kids full time with them going to their dad’s house every weekend. And my husband’s kids live with their mother and come to our house every other weekend. Very rarely (aside from the summer vacation) are all the kids together. Which is both good and bad. But this week, my husband has to pick up his kids tonight. Which means tonight and tomorrow we will have all seven. The whole herd.

That means seven kids taking showers tonight. Seven kids eating breakfast in the morning. Me rushing seven kids out the door so I’m not late for school. Making two babysitter drops (since no one but me is crazy enough to take care of that many kids, hehe).

Wish me luck.

I’ve said it at least a zillion times and I will say it again… Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. Especially when you figure in divorce. Your kids will break your heart (sometimes without even realizing it) and they won’t even blink. It is more than being unappreciated, which believe me there is that too. It is the “I want to live with Dad” that kills you ever time.

My boys think I’m mean and awful and why shouldn’t they. I’m the person who makes them do their chores, bathe, eat things they don’t want to. I make them do their reading and homework every night. I tell them we can’t afford to do somethings that they want to do. Seriously what’s not to like, right.

And then their is my ex, who comes out shining like the bumper of a brand new car. He has the money to do whatever (except of course help pay for his portion of child care), he takes them out to eat, he lets them get away with whatever they do. There is no punishment at Dad’s house. Sounds awesome, right!!

I get so frustrated I break down and cry. Like last night when all my husband could do was tell me it would be okay, tell me they are better off with me, tell me he loves me.

A huge and generally nasty part of being re-married is dealing with the ex or exes. Generally I try to be the peacemaker. I don’t really like contention when it can be avoided and so as long it things are going mostly okay with my ex-husband I try not to rock the boat. I send my kids to his house, I (usually) answer his phone calls, I’m pleasant, I don’t try to stir up trouble. Honestly as an ex-wife I ask very little from him except that he pay me child support and child care.
This is where we continue to hit a snag. That nasty little devil called child care. Which he really really really doesn’t seem to want to pay. The divorce decree says he will pay half. But anyone who is divorced knows that just because the decree says you are supposed to do it, doesn’t mean that your ex will actually do it.
I pay the child care and he is supposed to reimburse me. But he doesn’t…as in ever. Okay he paid a portion of ONE month but hello…not really helping. I do everything I can to be a decent human being. I’m a pretty easy to get along with ex-wife. But what’s a girl to do?? I could take him to court, but I”m still not guaranteed a check. Besides the outrageous attorney’s fees I’d have to pay.

UGH…all in a day’s work, right???

We spent two hours last night cleaning out my step daughters closet. Those two have clothes scattered all over their room. It looks like the laundry monster spewed in the middle of their bedroom floor. They have a lot of older cousins who are constantly handing down clothes to them so I knew they had a ton of clothes. But I really didn’t realize just how much they actually had.

My husband worked on the toys in the closet while I tried to sort through the clothes. Picking out the ones that didn’t fit anymore and putting them in a bag to take to goodwill. I decided about mid-way through that since I was in charge of the clothes I could get rid of the ones I really hate. They aren’t a lot but there are some things that are worn out or just plain ugly that the girls just LOVE to wear.

You know the kind of clothes that when they wear them you feel like you are walking around with a couple of kids fresh out of the orphange. It was so nice to stuff those clothes into a bag and know I’d never, ever have to see them again.

Hopefully the girls don’t notice they are missing. I doubt they will since they still have enough stuff in their drawers to cloth a small, very pink army

My husband and I don’t actually have twins though some days it definitely feels like that. His oldest son is eight days older than my oldest son. Therefore… the twins.

I get stressed out sometimes when they are together because they have such contrasting personalities. Add that to the small little detail that both of them are used to being the oldest and it causes all sorts of ‘You can’t tell me what to do’ issues.

Our usual schedule is my kids go to see their dad every weekend. (While the visitation schedule is techniqually only every other weekend, we’ve found this works best for us. The boys and their father enjoy seeing each other and so unless we have an event on the weekend, I let them have their time together). We get my husband’s children every other weekend.

This past weekend I had my kids until Saturday morning. So the family had a night together. After the kids had been together for about an hour, our oldest two boys were actually playing together. I was kinda shocked. Absolutely tickled but keeping my fingers crossed that it would stay friendly. Which it did. Making quite a nice night with all of us watching a movie together.

I try to keep a firm hold on the memories of days like this because with so many children it isn’t often when everyone gets along.

It seems appropriate that I take this first post as an opportunity to introduce myself. I’m Kim. *waves*

My parents divorced when I was five and I grew up with a string of stepdads (some awful, some so-so, one fantastic) and thankfully one wonderful stepmom (not that I always thought so). I married young. Too young. And had three amazing sons, who are currently eight, five, and four. After eight years of marriage I filed for divorce.

The divorce was hard on my boys but before I knew it we were all adjusting nicely to our new lives and then in stepped the love of my life. Honestly I know how corny that sounds (seriously even to me) but it is actually very true. He asked me to marry him and I jumped, knowing it would be a long road. A road filled with ‘your kids’, ‘my kids’, ‘your ex’, and ‘my ex’. Not an easy road, but one covered in pot holes and soft, gravel-filled edges.

Regardless it is the road we are on. And I’m a happy driver, bumping along at warp speed.