the weekends

I don’t talk about being a stepmom much, at least I don’t feel like I do. It’s equal parts frustrating and good; I do what I can but I think I will always be on the outside.

We’ve been making an effort to stay in Chicago when we have Stepson. This weekend, we did homework, built train tracks, went to a cheaper version of Chuck E Cheese with a Groupon, grocery shopped, made s’mores, went to church, practiced writing and sight words, and lazied around a little.

It was good. He had a good time.

There’s no denying by anyone that he does better when he’s with us. He sleeps better, listens better, eats better. He pooped on the potty (hooray! will celebrate this EVERY TIME.). We talk out our feelings and we turn away from excessive treats and watching TV (because we don’t have one).

But we also don’t have any other kids. It’s quieter at night. The routine has been down since day one on bedtime and expectations, plus what we have food wise in the house. Husband is pretty strict on how he behaves.

 

We are not super parents, we don’t have all the answers.

We only have him a couple times a month, so we all tolerate each other well. We’re trying to ease into taking him a little more here and there, like a Thursday and Friday plus a weekend. I’m nudging Husband to say ‘yes’. I think it’ll be good for all of us.

 

He likes his room, btw. He’s a boy, so he didn’t go berserk, but he enjoys the large, empty space to play in and was very, very good about cleaning it up (with a little whine to go with it).

 

He and I don’t do so well on hugging it out. I don’t like to force it, even though others try to force him to hug me. I want him to want to, because I know kids will hug when they mean it. Finally, finally, tonight he voluntarily came and hugged me good bye without Husband prompting. It was nice.

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