I swear to God, I leave the kids with Stanley and sometimes I feel like I’ve left them with
this guy.
They need a parent here very, very badly.
Stanley was on last Wednesday night and Thursday night. Both nights, I told him when I left that Merlot had to study for her spelling test on Friday. I had supervised all of her other work on both days, all she had left to do on his time was study. Today I got her folder and she got an F.
This week he was on Sun night, Mon night and Tuesday night. Yesterday I picked her up from school and almost cried in the car. It was the coldest day so far here, 20 degrees on 11/18, unheard of in these parts, and she got in the car with capri leggings, a short sleeve uniform shirt, and her black flats. She had her coat on and her new scarf and gloves I bought her over the weekend so she would be warm.
Nekkid from the knees down.
I was so upset I had a terrible time not trashing him to the kids. Now, I know, I know, she is nine years old and is big enough to know she needs pants. But she still needs a parent sometimes to remind her that it isn’t our usual balmy winter weather of 60 degrees. These are Southern kids. Southern kids don’t have snow boots and sleds. We don’t have cashmere sweaters and down coats, we just put on a heavier cardigan, swap closed toed shoes for our flip flops, and run from the door to the car. I don’t even own a pair of gloves. I’m sure I do but I’m sure I can’t find both of them.
That said, any idiot knows his child ought to wear PANTS and SOCKS to school!
I know a month or so ago, I blogged about his parenting being good enough. This past week, it has not been good enough. I was mad. I can’t be here by law 50% of the time, but 100% of the time they are supposed to have a parent. His 50% is extremely questionable sometimes and downright BAD more than it ought to be.
Grrrrrr.
So, I took the cold, nekkid, child to a museum with her sister directly after school yesterday to see an exhibit that JB had to see for school. I noticed complete stranger’s expressions when we came into the building out of the frigid air. I felt like a terrible mother. I’ll probably let her be a stripper and sleep with her boyfriend in my house when she’s 14 too.
I was so mad that when we got back to the nest I took her upstairs and went through all of her appropriate school pants (she said she couldn’t find them) and socks so she can find them easily when I’m not there. BTW, they were right there in her drawer. She just needed her parent to tell her she wasn’t dressed right for the weather and send her back to try again. She was tearful and knew she had upset me. I loved her and told her it wasn’t her fault. Then I heard Stanley come in for his night.
Me: “You know, it is appropriate for you to parent her by saying, “You need pants and your boots on today dear, it’s 20 degrees outside.” I was horrified when she got in the car like that.”
Stanley: duhhh
Oh my God. He was mad, didn’t really speak and I didn’t remotely care.
Fuck head.
What’s a mother to do? Sometimes I want to kill him.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be chuckling. But really…if that’s the worst of your problems…we should trade lives for a day.
oh God. I know, I know. Could be worse!
I’m the dad in charge! I certainly do things differently than mom. My caughter’s bed doesn’t have hospital corners on it, but it is made, and she can hit a curve ball. We just might have cake for breakfast (is it really any worse than Cap’t Crunch?) or go to the park on a weeknight. Because of my (now) exwife’s work schedule, I’m the consistant one. With her commute, she is gone for about 13 hrs on a normal work day, longer if there is an issue of some sort. and then of course, the shift rotates, changing days and changing start times.
For the longest time, we followed her plan, even though I was the one there to implement it. Seems like I was always in trouble because I chose to do C before B and didn’t think that A was even worth worrying about. We hit a major turning point in my happyness level when I pushed back and shifted to my plan. It’s not a better plan, just more natural for me.