Falling rain is the little things: failure to do what is asked, clear a table, feed a dog, turn off a light, finish homework, a bad attitude.
But the wind is larger, more powerful. It drives the rain; failing grades, lying, notes home from unhappy teachers, disregard, disrespect, missing items, shoplifting, destruction of school property... lightening and thunder.
Zero consequences in a green sky.
I get the feeling there is a cellar somewhere, doors flapping madly against the storm, perhaps we should be heading in right about now. Instead I wait at the fence watching the rotation in the clouds. Armed with nothing more than an umbrella wondering, open or closed? Knowing it doesn’t matter at least not here in the land where I am only a step parent.
I reminded BC this morning, as I stumbled across the rain coming in the house in the form of every one else’s clean laundry scattered, left for the cats & occasional hen to nap on >reoccurring issue<, that the two kids I have and are raising by myself are the two best children we have. Yes, I really said that and he didn’t deny it, no one would. Case in point: while BC argued with the 14 yr old why he shouldn't go trick-or-treating without a costume I was helping my 1st best gather educational materials and games for the Title 1 School kids she teaches and the other best was worrying that we had taken the stores hangers without permission or payment and needed to return them to Old Navy right away. (!)
Those two are mine, so perhaps my way might be worthy of a little consideration. One warning, one redirection, and from there we hit real life consequence territory. I am actually a very demanding mom. I am always lurking and at times a bit old fashion.
I wanted a real consequence on this particular issue of entitlement, disrespect, and disobedience. I asked for permission for a punishment and it was denied.
Okay but I hope while sitting in the office with the principal today, the one who a few hours later called to invite BC down for a chat about destruction of school property in the amount equal to the fine BC was returning from paying in Juvenile Court, that BC might revisit that denial. Just a thought.
I can respect the emotion behind BC's choices.
I can understand and support his end goal.
Even while stumbling to find the right ground, out of the two natural parents, he is and always has been the better parent for this particular child.
I know that no parent is perfect.
Divorce is hard.
Sharing kids with someone you married then divorced is even harder.
All over America fourteen year old boys get in trouble and are sent to live with their fathers... I've done it myself. I believe there is a point where a boy needs a man to show him the way and if it is at all possible it should be his own father.
I'm ratting us out in this ugly moment because we aren't unique. Somewhere right now another step-mom is feeling exactly like I am: hopeless. I have followed all the rules set down by the experts, I know my place, I walk the step-parent line, always have. Yet my 'house' is the one that gets trashed by a tornado while the wicked witch flies around laughing.
Step-moms should be issued regulation ruby red slippers for moments like these “Oh there is no place like home.” Actually, home is the last place I wish to be right now.
Like a thousand times before
I hear it seeping
It holds down the sun from waking
Extends night beyond his borders
Layers of drops weaving their way until
And the world is wet
Like a string of pearls pulling one by one
A dimness just beyond
This is morning's season here in the dark ~mlb 10/30/13