If you read through my blog, you'll know that SO works 4p-midnight M, T, and W. It wasn't always this way. When I met him, he worked 8a-4p but didn't have weekends off. This is why he switched his schedule earlier this year. But I hate the new schedule.
The schedule doesn't work because as much as I try, I don't care about skids the way their real parents would. I don't care to follow through on whether or not SS9 is doing his homework the correct way. I just care that he's out of my hair for 45 minutes a day for his daily reading. I don't want the responsibility of raising his kids. He knows this.
I'm trying to suck it up for the sake of the love I have for SO. I think he's an amazing man, understanding, funny, we get along most times. I know that he's the one I pretty much want to spend the rest of my life with. Problem is, I really don't like being responsible for skids.
Right now, they are both on Christmas break. So no more going to sleep at 9pm because there's no school the next day. SS15 asked if he can have his friend over. I don't want to be the bitch SM so I say yes. But they are apparently play fighting and they have absolutely no consideration for the fact that I'm here. Also, my brother gave us a cockatoo, which SO decided to take on but I ended up absolutely and surprisingly falling in love with. She was apparently abused before so all of the jumping and screaming and play fighting makes her really anxious and start screaming. Of courloose, the boys don't care.
SS9 is doing something daily to piss me off also. The day before yesterday, he had 9.99 charged to SO's itunes account. This is after being banned from having our info earlier this year because he charged 500 dollars to itunes when he went to visit BM for the weekend, which Apple only wanted to reimburse 20 dollars for.
Then yesterday, I smelled a strong scent of fire. I asked SS9 if he had been playing with fire and he looked me dead in the eye, with a serious face and said no. As I looked around in the kitchen, and continued to smell, I knew that something was wrong. I asked him again if he was playing with matches and he admitted that he was. I was pissed. Of course, I told SO but I feel bad because I feel like all I do is bitch about his kids to him.
I will say, they are not "bad" kids, but if I were to be honest, I don't care to be responsible for them while SO is at work M, T, and W because they require a lot of discipline. A lot.
I know some people may not take issue with messes, and for the most part, I don't either if they are small messes or infrequent. But they will literally throw candy wrappers on the floor wherever they are standing. They leave towels in the bathroom. They take their clothes off and leave them on the floor wherever they land. They leave their dishes and cups wherever they finish with them. There's a hole in the television in their room from when they shot it with a bb gun. One of the twin beds is broken in their room from them jumping on it. When I'm home, they try a little harder not to be as messy but they are still too messy. I know that part of this is that their parents did not teach and engrain this into them, but it's definitely something I hate repeating every single day.
I wonder sometimes if I made a mistake. Then I feel horrible because at the time when I'm supposed to be happy and joyous, to be honest with you all, a part of me wishes I wasn't pregnant, wishes this wasn't my life, wishes that I could reverse this and just move out and date SO until his kids were grown and not have another child mixed up in this mess. I already love my daughter, I just wish circumstances were different. And I feel so 8*(&*(&^ guilty for feeling this way about her and she's not even born. I'm supposed to be completely happy.
After reading a lot of what posters go through on here, I know that my SO is wonderful and he listens to me and I can tell him all of this and it will make him feel helpless and sad for me. But I'm not meshing into this steplife well. I don't mind being with the skids sometimes or when he's here. But when he's not here, its up to me to be telling them what not to do and I feel like everything they do is wrong. I feel like I have been so busy through my pregnancy, I haven't even had time to enjoy it. I have to constantly tell them to clean their dish, or their cup, or hang up their shirt, or put their socks on the hamper, or stop jumping so much. If they are fine and I'm in my room, they knock on the door because they need money, or they are hungry, or they want me to help them find something.
I feel like all I want is to focus on my daughter when she's born. I don't want to be on top of SS9 about his homework, I don't care whether or not SS15 wants to a famous boxer. I just want peace and happiness. I don't know that moving forward with buying a house together is the right move. And of course it sucks because I'm already 8 months pregnant, ring on my finger, and still confused about whether to be strong and stick this out until skids turn 18 or just leave now.