“I’m just going pee.”
“Then why are you coming in here?”
“I don’t know.” Door closes.
That was the discussion with my stepdaughter at four o’ clock Saturday morning. Then the baby woke up.
I know I’m lucky. I could have inherited teenagers, or misbehaved children, or special needs kids (mean, but true). I didn’t. I happened to get awesome stepkids, and they love me as much as I love them. The truth of the matter is, most days I truly enjoy being a stepparent. They’re super cool kids and we have a lot of fun. But every so often, things aren’t as easy, and it throws me for a bit of a loop. It’s not that I don’t love them just as much as those other times, it’s just that I’d rather love them while they’re stapled to a wall or duct taped to the floor. Especially when the situation concerns things like: a) my broken cell phone (due to jumping on the couch), b) my broken Sleeping Beauty snow globe (due to jumping on the couch), c) the numerous things the dog and cats eat and break under the couch when things have fallen through due to … well, you get the idea. I started reading another blog on Parents.com, and lo and behold, I’m not the only stepparent in the crowd that sometimes feels like sitting under a desk chewing on my hair. Interesting.