Pick Your Battles, "they" Say!

I shouldn't provide an illusion that all is always well in a dual-family household. I assure you, it is not. Internally, it's a battle every day to not go completely out of my mind with anger.

Subjects and every day events for which the ordinary household will take on with ease, seem multiplied with stress. I cannot simply ask the kids a question like:

"What do you guys want to be for Halloween this year?"

On subjects like this, the question must be asked in a tactful way that expresses minor indifference with a touch of tip-toeing around.

"Are you excited for Halloween this year?"

This way, I've led them into the conversation and allow them to divulge the inevitable plans. Their Mother enjoys Halloween very much and has, though the years, made that very clear by instilling upon them a glorious enthusiasm for it. While I do enjoy Halloween just as much, that is just the type of thing that now becomes secondary and always will. No plans can be made, no expectations to be laid out. I know the routine. I've observed over the years and will always submit. Why? Well, it's very simple.

I must pick my battles. I will sure go out of my mind if I don't.

Just writing this is my way of removing myself from the battle within. The battle in my head that sounds like:

Why can't I just say the girls will be with us on Halloween because Halloween is not something you can claim? I do not want to share the time with the girls this year. It's rubbish. I should be able to make the costumes in August and feel fine with it. I don't care how she feels about it. I hope it even pisses her off a little, too, because she should feel what I am feeling right now. I feel LEFT out, I feel like I can't involve myself in a holiday because she says so. I am so tired of feeling like she is controlling my life! Arg!! 

Demon mind, it can be. Eh, I'm only human.

One thing I have never liked to do is attempt to define myself with any particular object, subject, phrase, clothing... or holiday. We all LIKE things. We all REALLY like things. When it comes down to it, the children seem to identify with their parents through extreme likes and dislikes. They attempt to define their parents through favourite ice cream flavours, hair styles, smells, habits and commonly watched television shows. It's a simple form of relationship building, as they seem to do in school.

"What's your favourite color?"

"Blue, what's your's?" 

"Mine, too! Let's be best friends!" 

My children do this very often. So much so, that sometimes it seems as though they are drawing a very large line in the sand about who they identify with the most and why they identify with that parent. They also draw conclusions about each parent based on this information.

By now, I likely know their Mother very well. More so than she'd like to think, I am sure, but I do. I know her favourite bands, colours, television shows and movies. I know everything from her high school celebrity crush to her favourite position when she sleeps. I know all of these things because they are told to me constantly. Did I ask for this information? No. Did I listen to this information? Yes.

I am sure she is dealing with the very same thing. Part of me would surely love to know the information about me for which they absorb the most. Why information comes up? The details of the bickering my husband and I had just a few nights ago? The new dress I bought for work? My brother getting lost and our having to pick him up an hour before their bed time? Ah, yes, the "F" bomb I dropped while driving home from school will likely come up, won't it?

Just remember, we are all flawed. We are all late, at some point. We are all angry for irrational reasons time and again. In these times of anger, I do take it out on the husband sometimes. We fight and I am reminded to pick my battles... to let things go... to take the wins when I can and let everything else fall into place.

I remember that my anger at their Mother is like directing the anger at them.

I once read that speaking badly about the other parent to or around the child is as though you are speaking badly about the child directly. The child is made up of two parts: The Mother and the Father - To speak ill of the other is like stating to the child:

"Half of you is stupid and irresponsible."

or

"Half of you is rude and manipulating."

I love these children. I am grateful every day they are a part of my life and I tell myself that, if not for her sacrifice  my life would not be the same. That appreciation allows me so submit Halloween over to Mother because there will plenty of other times I can define myself for my children in so many other ways.

...now excuse me while I snore so loudly they will remember it for a lifetime.