9:54 p.m. - 2016-02-24
Lunch and my son's heart
My son has produced a "family tree" just like his "self-portrait" -- with "stepmom" plastered right in the center, over his heart (or the tree's heart, in the most recent art artifact). Surrounding this are "sister," "Cash" (his name) and "mom."
Am I insulted? Far from it. It makes me so happy. I used to think Matt leaving ended our chances at being a "real family." I used to think my dreams of having a happy family were just dead.
Andi has been in Cashy's life since he was two and he can't remember her not being around. She gets him, and makes him clean his room and bathe and hang up his coat, and honestly is a better fit as a parent for his personality than either me or his dad (who is still very much in his life.)
So maybe I didn't fail too badly, and maybe two women can make a family. I do not pretend to believe that my older child, Mar, who just turned 9, will ever see A. as anything but a sometimes loved and sometimes hated step-parent. Mar and I are like peas in a pod -- she is a strange child and I swear I "get" everything she does. Cashy I do not "get," and never have. This is not me rejecting my son; I love him like crazy. I just am mystified by the things he says and does and what they mean.
Luckily I found A. She and he have this special relationship that reminds me of my relationship with my grandmother, who was really the best adult in my life ever. She loves him and she calls him on his shit. He likes that she calls him on his shit. She makes him clean his room and doesn't give him dessert if he does a crappy job. And she hugs him whenever, even if he is mad at her.
I never thought blended families could work -- that is why I fought to save my marriage for about three miserable soul-sucking years. I especially didn't think a lesbian marriage could work, because I am probably essentially a conservative which is why I was married to a guy (who I loved but wasn't attracted to). I felt like a failure for bringing my kids into this non-socially-accepted relationship, even if I empirically knew it was the best thing I could offer them (A is a wonderful person and my marriage to another guy would have been miserable, and I am way too crazy to raise kids alone).
I told A. when I met her that my kids and I were a package deal -- you take me and them at the same time, not just me. I can't say we sang "Cumbaya" thereafter. A. never wanted kids. I was pretty sure she was wrong about this. I guess we both got to be wrong.
Because A. genuinely did not want kids because of all the love and emotion it entails, and Our Boy genuinely fucked with that. He has made her a happier person, as I knew he would. On some level, my daughter has too. She does not adore A. and is often jealous and mouthy, but she loves her. My son just loves A. with all his soul.
And where is dad? Dad has them every weekend. He buys them icecream and takes them places I can't afford, while failing to pay me child support. I think I like to think of him as a favorite uncle and so this doesn't bother me much. My kids come "home" (as they know it) to me and A. They tell me about their weekend with dad. I got Mar an Ipad and an email account so she can email him a lot, and I think she does just about every day. I am happy about that. A girl needs a dad, and there are none in this household. I also still have a lot of love for my ex-husband, and I would like to see him play a full role in his kids' lives. He gave me two beautiful children. I can't pay that back with an e-mail account. So...
I think I have reached a lot of peace with my situation, even though I felt like a failure for a long time. I am a good mom and I married a good stepmom. I am raising happy, healthy kids who have a good relationship with their irresponsible but loving father. (To think he was once my boss...) My kids bathe and clean their rooms and chew with their mouths closed and are generally civilized.
My daughter wants to be a boy and I have somehow managed to get my fundamentalist Christian ex-mother-in-law OK with this. My out-laws are very important to me and to my children. We agreed that children's hair grows and they grow out of things (I whacked Mar's hair in compliance with her wishes.) I have been encouraging Mar to e-mail her grandmother with questions about the Bible because I believe that faith is a beautiful thing that I wish I had but don't. I want my daughter to have a full and beautiful life, and I trust that any condemnations of my life with my wife that are in the Bible are something that my very smart daughter will be able to throw out as not useful to her faith. My daughter knows what a lesbian household is like, and it is a household full of love.
I know this probably all sounds crazy but I feel very peaceful with my fired, unemployed life. I have good people in it. I have a beautiful family. A job is just a job, and I am pretty much CEO already of the most terrifying enterprise, parenthood. My babies are beautiful happy kids. I kept the boat from sinking when their dad left and the boat is still happily afloat with a new co-parent (of a couple of years) and a new career that pays for them. As my mother would say, "I done good."
Tomorrow I am having lunch with one of the nurses I used to work with, All... She was my favorite -- tall, heavyset, weird hairstyles, thick glasses, 10 years younger than I am. She was/is a very good nurse, and named the same as my favorite character in Catcher in the Rye, the dead brother. After I was fired we exchanged facebook messages and discovered that we share an eating disorder (hers is BED and bulimia) and I suspect that she is also a cutter. I asked her if she wanted to have coffee and she said, "Yes, Please!!!" So I guess we are going to have lunch instead. I am very happy because I liked her a lot when we worked in the same place, and she always reminded me of one of my brothers -- the middle one, my favorite. I had the same protective impulse.
Crazy how someone as fucked up as I am can have a protective impulse, but I did. So I am very much looking forward to it. I thought she would say no to coffee when I asked. Because I am a loser, right? But maybe I come across as different because I am skinny and blonde and look like a Barbie with a fat face and a perfect if nontraditional life, or maybe it is because I actually give a fuck. I liked A----- and she is a good person and a good and caring nurse, and I could see her struggling with hating herself because society or people told her she should. That sucks; a good person should not feel that way.
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