The Chat

Finally had the opportunity to have "the chat" with the boyfriend. His kids are having trouble getting used to me because they see me as "The Woman Dad left Mom for". Even though that isn't exactly true, that's what they think. The oldest will probably never come around. It's doubtful that he'll ever do more than the most basic of small talk with me. He's quite the mama's boy. Actually, from what I've seen and heard, it wouldn't surprise me if he ended up on a Freudian psychoanalyst's couch recounting how he wanted to be intimate with his mother someday. It's a horrible thing to say, but it's how I feel. There was a news story recently where a teen was arrested for raping his mother. When I read it, I couldn't help thinking of the oldest. Now, I don't think he'd ever do anything like that to any one, but that was my first thought. But I digress. The youngest and only girl doesn't seem to have any real problems with me. She actually talks to me and tells me stories. Maybe it's because she's very much a daddy's girl (but then, most little girls are, aren't they?). Maybe it's because she's young and adjusts easier. Maybe it's because she's just a friendly girl. I don't know, but I'll take what I can get.

The real problem is his middle child. I don't know what all is going on because the boyfriend (I really need to name him...) doesn't tell me all the details. He says he's uncomfortable around me and doesn't think that I want him around. I guess that when I bought them food and games and tried to find entertaining things to do for them was just horrible. I'm an ogre. Every time I say anything he tries to refute it. Granted, he doesn't have a clue about everything since he's only 11. But he refuses to believe that I might actually know something. I'm not sure what happened, but it seems to have started from when I made the youngest two behave while they were in my car. They were kicking, punching, yelling at each other and I told them that if they wanted to do that they had to get out of the car. Sorry but, I really don't want my car trashed. So he refuses to come over if I'm here. And really, where else would I be? I mean, this is supposed to be my home, etc.

It looks like the "solution" is for me to start leaving again on the weekends the kids are supposed to be here. Yay. That's convenient and easy on the pocketbook. At least until I can find an apartment or something of my own. Which again, is going to be so wonderful on my finances. Or rather, lack thereof. The job hunt isn't going very well. It looks like this week I need to hit the stores and start throwing out apps. I keep putting it off in the hopes of getting a "normal" job, but it doesn't look like that'll happen. So, I get to swallow any pride I might have left and go back to the jobs I had when I was in my teens and twenties. Don't get me wrong, those aren't bad jobs or anything. I guess I could compare it to seeing Donald Trump working at McDonald's. You know, you work hard to get to a certain place in your life, and then have to start over again. Man, it sounds like I'm dogging out retail. Maybe I really am an ogre! And a snobby one at that!