Sympathy Pain

Since the beginning of time, kids tune into which parent plays what roles and prey on that. Who will say yes to ice cream? Who will say yes to a sleep over? Who will say yes to a week in Amsterdam at an opium din? It happens. I did it. I watched my sister do it. It was different for each. I could do no wrong in my Mom’s eyes…not that I ever did. My sister is my Dad’s child.
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Last year, my son went through a really hard period with spelling homework. Never with myself or Sarah, by he would, for lack of a better phrase, attack his mom. It was hard to listen to him over the phone throwing these tantrums. A couple times, I went up to get him, which really was not either one of us wanted to happen.

It got better and seemed to go away as school continued. His grades got better and he settled into a nice groove. It was, however, very frightening. What if it continued, what to do? My ex thought it might be medical. I thought possible family therapy. It never came to that.

I guess, I grew up before the “huggy, feel good therapy” 80’s or “mood altering prescription drug” 90’s. It’s hard to grasp anything more than discipline being the answer to behavior problems. I had, however, accepted these other avenues as options. I have no way of helping out when he’s not here. I can’t do anything, so I guess I hoped family therapy or medical help would fill in where I couldn’t. I talked to his teacher, hoping I could impress on her what I needed someone to know. I wanted to help, but had no idea how too. The behavior never surfaced here. My hands are tied with things that happen there but not here.

So, his spelling grades are not in the passing range for the first 3 weeks. We did homework last night, and he scored an 85 on a mock spelling test. He stayed realitivly focused. Great.

I get a call at 5:00 telling me not to come to football practice because he had failed some papers today because he didn’t do the back of the page, and he had to set in the “yellow corner” in class. He socred a 65 on the mock test at her house. I could hear him shouting in the background…it froze me all over again..

We are newlyweds…I guess. October 14. We lived in sin for about a year before that. Still, sometimes hearing the self proclaimed lifetime bachelorette/never having children Sarah say certain things catches me off guard.

“Bad dog, we don’t eat Power Rangers.”

It’s strange, the duality that is my house. Jack’s room stays shut most of the time, to keep down on the power bill. Then, every two weekends, we become a house with a kid. This weekend, our pointer ate 2 pirates, a cannon, and a power ranger. We started a science experiment to see whose mouth would grow more bacteria, Jack’s, the dog’s, or the cat’s. Our female cat was not keen on this and snapped the q-tip in half we were using for sampling her cheek.

So, every two weekends also becomes a strange new world for Sarah. I know sometimes a seven year old can be very…different to be around. His energy is manic and he feels the need to be the center of attention. So it’s not always easy for Step-mom Sarah. Especially we we loose a hero like the blue ranger. She does an amazing job though. I am impressed with her instinct and parenting skills. This baby will have an amazing mom.

Another wednesday. Some people see it as half way through the week. Some as church night. To most, it’s not very remarkable. To me, it is the best and worst day of the week, every week.

It’s the day I have my son. I look forward to it.

Around 10:00 a.m. every wednesday, I get a text message from bio mom confirming the pick up time.

“3ish” is almost always the answer.

Everyone at work knows I leave at about 2:30 to go pick him up. I hate when anything delays me. I try to be at his house at 3.

3:30 we are back at my house, and have caught up with what the day had been. We talk about what we want to do. I check in with Sarah about her schedule. We figure out dinner.

We then do…something. Games, ride bikes, homework, go to the movies…but whatever it is, 7:00 is the ending time. Then back to bio mom’s house. No matter how hard we hard we play, or much we laugh, or how far we go, it is bookended.

Usually, the 3 if us drive him home. It helps to have Sarah on the ride home. Tonight i didn’t. I miss him. The car seems so quite after having his laugh fill it.

There it is, my favorite and least favorite day. This is my weekend with him, so that’s something. Those wednesdays without the upcoming weekend with him are heightened on both ends of the spectrum.