You would think the birth of the baby, or the King and I getting married, or any other number of things that happened to and for us before Disney would have helped seal and stitch us together. Yeah, that’s a negative, ghost rider. Let me tell you why.
They’re all asleep. The girls are home plus Danny, who’s on spring break. Bunny and Hayhay are off next week. I have a feeling they’ll be asked to stay with the others. I have mixed feelings on that.
I’ve always tried to keep some form of relationship between Bunny and the ex going. I just don’t see how her staying in the house by herself will help that. I suppose Hayhay’s mom may be working nights and therefore home during the day, but the lady has to sleep sometime. There’s another reason I think and it may be due to the fact that I actually enjoy my children and like having them home with me. Don’t get me wrong, we definitely have moments of, “Oh my Gods, I’m going to duct tape you to the ceiling fan, turn it on high speed, and use you as a pinata.” For the most part I love my kids, I hate when they’re not here, and I wish I could spend more time with that wasn’t always brush your teeth, do your homework, no you can’t get your nose pierced.
My break up was a disaster
It was an unmitigated catastrophe of nearly biblical proportions the likes I hope never to ever relive ever again in this life and the next. I’m talking restraining orders, death threats, name calling, custody threats, dfs calls, animal control calls, you name it, it happened. Interestingly enough, no lawyer involved because not actually married. Dodged a bullet there, am I right?
The King’s actual divorce went a lot smoother than my pseudo divorce. Quick, easy, and cheap. Not painless. Divorce and breakups are never painless. There are victims. Some handle it better than others seeing the inherent flaws of the original partnerships and realizing everyone is better off.
The Bunny didn’t handle it well, but that’s a topic for another day. Hayhay really didn’t handle it well. I was the cause. I became the bane of civilization, the causation of everything from paper cuts to cancer. I was the one fairy tales were written about. I had become the Stepmother. Oh yes, children, run and hide, it’s the Wicked Witch of South Philadelphia.
That was 2012.
It’s been a long road. A long, winding, sometimes back tracking beast of a road that made us walk uphill, both ways, barefoot, in Four feet of snow, crawl through broken glass, and swim in a sea of lemon juice before coming to the plateau we are currently standing on.
Would I do it all again? Hell yeah. I love the King. He loves me and I knew he was a package deal like I was. I love our son together and I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. It’s taught me how far I’ve come and that I’m like spider web, way stronger than you’d expect and tougher than I look.
That’s where our Disney trip comes in.
My parents paid to meet my new family when in reality I was still learning who we were as individuals and as a family unit. I was worried because I didn’t know how they would all react to and receive each other. I was still worried until we got home. Yes, mom and dad said they liked everyone. Yes, mom and dad said they like the King. Yes, mom and dad said I looked happier. It wasn’t until I saw a post on Facebook that my mom wrote that I felt like we had finally made it being a family.
She talked about meeting a good friend, an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, down at Disney. This friend had grown up a little, but was still the person she had been years ago and even though the woman had disappeared for some time she was now back and as amazing as ever. The woman had a lovely family and a wonderful husband and was happier than she had been in a long time. My mother was so happy to have found this woman again. So much so she said, “She’s the type of woman I want to be. I’m so happy to know she’s my daughter. ”
That’s when it hit me. It was that moment that I knew the hard work paid off. No one could tell we were a mixed family, yours,mine, and ours. No one cared. We were a family like everyone else at Disney World, curbing I want syndrome and pointing out princesses, talking about rides and what does everyone want on their pizza. I made decisions for our children and not just baby t Rex or the bunny. I didn’t say, “Ask your dad,” or “I’ll have to ask your dad.” There were no major arguments or tantrums or fits or tears, well until we left but that’s me and my dad and that’s a story for another day.
What can you take from this
Don’t give up. Step mom, birth mom, adopted mom, grandma raising the grandkids, whoever, it’s worth it. It really is, truly is. Yes, it’s hard and you’ll want to run away and join the Renaissance Faire and never come back. Believe me, when they come home holding a report card of A’s and B’s because you helped and they know it, or you’re looking up St. Patrick’s Day hairstyles so she’ll stand out in class, or you’re riding next to them on Tower of Terror and the look the get right before your elevator car is pulled faster than the speed of gravity 13 floors straight down sticks in your head and replays in your dreams, that’s when you know it’s all going to be ok.
My mom had that moment when she saw her daughter being the mom. Hey, Ma, I learned it by watching you. Thanks for doing the hard things and not giving up. Love you.