Wait... when did August get here??
My, how time flies when you don't know what the fuck you're doing.
I can now confirm without a doubt that 12-year-olds are infinitely more difficult to connect with than kiddies aged, say, not 12 years old.
What a challenge this summer is turning out to be. Suddenly, everything is "boring", "stupid", and Step-Son knows everything there is to know about everything in the entire universe.
Thing is, we don't get the benefit of normal parents who may enter this stage gradually with their young'uns. Because we see Step-Son only once a year, we get the updated version of last year's personality without any practice or warning. (Under normal circumstances, we'd get to communicate with him regularly throughout the year, and in doing so might pick up on the subtle changes and brace ourselves accordingly. But his mom's a psycho bitch, so anything "normal" is thrown out the window, and communication is sporadic at best).
I have to admit that I have spent a considerable amount of time during this visit daydreaming about what it's going to be like when he's 15, 16, 17, and (gulp) 18. I have decided that unless I pick up some tricks and wisdom on how to be a step-parent to a troubled teenager being raised by a pyscho bitch mom, then I will FOR SURE be drinking again before long.
On a side note, I am detecting a brilliantly dry humour developing in my boyfriend's spawn, and when we can get past all this pre-adolescence and full-adolescence crap, we'll be able to trade sarcastic and witty remarks and laugh our asses off. Right now, though, the sarcasm tastes a little too much like smart-assery, and it's not so cute.
On a side-side note, I played the best round of golf in my entire life last weekend.
So, there's always that.
I can now confirm without a doubt that 12-year-olds are infinitely more difficult to connect with than kiddies aged, say, not 12 years old.
What a challenge this summer is turning out to be. Suddenly, everything is "boring", "stupid", and Step-Son knows everything there is to know about everything in the entire universe.
Thing is, we don't get the benefit of normal parents who may enter this stage gradually with their young'uns. Because we see Step-Son only once a year, we get the updated version of last year's personality without any practice or warning. (Under normal circumstances, we'd get to communicate with him regularly throughout the year, and in doing so might pick up on the subtle changes and brace ourselves accordingly. But his mom's a psycho bitch, so anything "normal" is thrown out the window, and communication is sporadic at best).
I have to admit that I have spent a considerable amount of time during this visit daydreaming about what it's going to be like when he's 15, 16, 17, and (gulp) 18. I have decided that unless I pick up some tricks and wisdom on how to be a step-parent to a troubled teenager being raised by a pyscho bitch mom, then I will FOR SURE be drinking again before long.
On a side note, I am detecting a brilliantly dry humour developing in my boyfriend's spawn, and when we can get past all this pre-adolescence and full-adolescence crap, we'll be able to trade sarcastic and witty remarks and laugh our asses off. Right now, though, the sarcasm tastes a little too much like smart-assery, and it's not so cute.
On a side-side note, I played the best round of golf in my entire life last weekend.
So, there's always that.
posted by Berry at 12:17 PM
2 Comments:
Why would you ever stop drinking. It's key!
At the very worst, there's always time for boot camp. I know a guy... He has nothing to do with boot camp; I just wanted to brag that I have a friend. Well, acquaintance..... Fine, we exchanged nods on the street. He may have been checking his fly though. I'm not sure.
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