Daddy: "Isobel, you need to walk around the front of the car, not the back. Cars can't see you when you walk out from between two cars."
Isobel: "Why can't the cars see me, am I invisible now?"
Daddy: "Because you're short, the people driving aren't looking where you are. They are looking ahead of them. They won't see you and they could hit you."
Isobel: "So? What would happen?"
Daddy: "If you got hit by a car? What would happen if you got hit by a car?"
Isobel: "Yeah."
Daddy: "If you got hit by a car, you be hurt very badly. Or worse."
Isobel: "Worse?"
Daddy: "You could be killed and then you would go down to the devil. MUHAHAH!"
Isobel:" No."
Daddy: "No? What would happen then?"( figuring on some less sinister answer)
Isobel: "If I got dead, they would bury me."
Being a parent is a difficult job, likely the most difficult thing most of us will ever do. Being a step parent is just as difficult, sometimes more so. Not only do you have to contend with the normal parent woes- being too strict or not being strict enough, you also have to take into consideration your relationship with the child. Does he/she like me? Will he/she care a rats ass about anything that actually comes out of my mouth that doesn't involve spending gobs of cash? Your biological children will also tend to not give a rat's ass about you if you are not spending gobs of cash but the concern of them liking you or not is irrelevant. They have to listen to you regardless.
The other...obstacle for lack of a better term, is the biological parent of the child. Usually the mother. Mother bear syndrome is a real thing and the human female can be every bit as lethal as a mother bear when she feels her child is threatened...or wronged...or punished unfairly...believe it.
I have found rightly or wrongly, the step children will take advantage of this fact. I know it first hand, I am a step child. I would go out of my way to be obstinate and rude and disrespectful, knowing full well I would get away with it. It was like having diplomatic immunity.
Now emotions and true feelings aside, The Boy and I have had and will continue to have our differences. Parent to leaping into teenage-hood child. I love him and I know he loves me but that is not my point. My point is many times has he thrown down a challenge to me as an authority figure only to hide behind the embassy walls of his Mother's protection.
He will do or say something knowing full well that nine out of ten times, his Mother is going to take his side and he will go unpunished. And if Mrs. Narrator and I are squabbling or generally in a foul frame of mine with regards to each other, I will keep my mouth shut in matters of discipline and again there will be little or no consequence to his action. I am making it sound as though she will only side with The Boy. If she is upset with me, she will side with Izzy just as quickly and earnestly and I am once again on the bus to Daddy who?-ville. I'm sure many Fathers will agree with me.
Now, there is a time in the life of all adults when all the stars align and wills diminish and moods soften. Those times when petty crap melts away and you're glad of each other's company. Perhaps not giddy like when a marriage was new but a feeling of invigoration that runs through the pair of you. A time when a bond will be strengthened and the iron grip the children have over the home will be broken into a thousand pieces.
Wait, what did he say? Yes, I said it. And you parents know exactly what I mean. That time when the parents decide "You know what, my partner isn't a complete dolt and so today I will side with them instead of the children."
It is the most wonderful time when the hearts of children( step and biological alike) sink and they cry out "Oh shit, Mom actually agrees with Dad. Now what are we going to do?"
The other day, Isobel was preforming gymnastics in the living room complete with loud thumps and giggles.
"Izzy," I said. "No more. You're shaking the whole house."
As expected, my words fell on deaf ears and she continued her tumbling and thumping and laughing.
"Izzy," I said more forcefully (though not quite through gritted teeth.) "ENOUGH."
She looked to Mrs. Narrator, fully expecting her to berate me for shouting or to say that 'She's just playing' as she has many times before.
"You heard your Father, knock it off." was instead her reply.
Izzy stood there as though someone had put a turd in her Hello Kitty Purse. She must not have believed what she heard or collapsed out of shock because she hit the floor again with a loud thud.
"Izzy, stop it." Mrs. Narrator said forcefully.
I must have had an equally shocked look on my face.
"What?" she asked.
The biggest issue of behaviour and punishment being meted out between The Boy and I are the video game systems. Specifically the cessation of play and the putting away of said video games. Like any lover of video games, he wants to continue to play them, long past bed time. Just over the next hill or just to the next check point. I have used the same excuse myself. But when it
's time to put it away, it is time. When he gets frustrated with the game however, logic goes out the window and so does the listening. In the normal course of things, he will walk upstairs without cleaning anything up and I will tell him that he has lost it for an indeterminate amount of time only to be contradicted by Momma Bear...in the normal run of things...He got a new game for Christmas and of course wants to play it endlessly. He couldn't play anymore and he got frustrated and went upstairs without putting it away. I informed him that he would not be playing the following evening ( not losing my temper). I put the video games away and went back to doing what I was doing on the computer and listening to music with the headphones on. In a couple of minutes I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was The Boy and he was apologizing. Not as though he had been put up to it but sincerely sorry for walking away from something he was asked to do... because I asked him to do it.
I walked upstairs, fully expecting to be given that look that I (and most fathers) have seen a thousand times. That look that says I made him apologize but that's all you're getting. That's all the punishment that is going to happen in this house tonight. But I didn't get that look. Instead she started talking about the renovations she wanted to do at the top of the stairs.
Ahh, their is a new sheriff in town and a new deputy!. Rooms will be cleaned and homework will be done. Demands from the parents will be carried out quickly and quietly and with no back talk...OK maybe I am dreaming a little on that one...I don't even mind being the deputy...if it means more peace and quiet around here and children that occasionally listen to their father and do as they're told, you can smack my ass and call me Festus...
Izzy had her first sleep over here this past weekend. It was meant to be with two of her friends in lieu of a birthday party. Sadly, only one of her friends could make it so it was more of a play date than a slumber party.
I'd like to say that wackiness ensued the whole time the two of them were together...but it just didn't. They were quite sedate. Oh sure, there was giggling and putting make up on and all of the things that one would expect from two little girls but that was really it. This is not the friend that Izzy has had over on several occasion but another friend from school who's house she has been to a couple of times but has never been to ours. (does that make sense?)
The thing I guess I noticed most, was the difference in the two of Izzy's friends. One is like Izzy, a leader and wants to be so at every opportunity. Just as Izzy does. This tends to create friction and as we all know friction equals unpleasant noise. This girl would seem to me to be more of a follower and therefore a perfect companion for Izzy. She has no qualms letting Izzy be the boss and Izz
y has no problems being the boss...They ate their supper and played for a while and then it was off to bed. And with a minimal amount of giggling. The next morning they got up and giggled a little more and their play threatened to get too loud for the two still sleeping people upstairs but they calmed down almost immediately. Izzy and her other friend would have woken the entire house before finally calming down. Finally the time came for her friend to go home and Isobel remained sitting on the couch.
"Don't you want to Come and say goodbye to your friend?" I asked.
"Good-bye." said Izzy but she remained seated on the couch.
With her friend out the door, Izzy breathed a sigh of relief and let out a loud raucous fart.
"I didn't think she would ever go home." she said.
I stood staring at her in amazement. "How long have you been holding that in?" I asked.
"A long time," she said. "since this morning, I think."
"You're six years old," I said. "six year old girls fart, you know."
"I know." said Isobel.
"Well then," I began. "What' the problem?"
"She doesn't know that, I don't think she's six yet."
They grow up so fast...
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