Post Game Analysis: Week Four

Unpacking.

Still.

Sucking the life out of me.

We have set up the bedrooms, but Ms. Sydney has an issue with... sharing. Four year olds: apparently VERY picky. And competitive. And jealous of other people their same age, or gender.

Sydney wants her pictures and things where she wants HER things. she has no concept of "Gabby will want to hang pictures, too."

Also, the defensiveness for our OWN kids has set in. Endless discussions about parenting, how to parent best, talking in endless euphemisms, endless attempts at making room for the other person and their processes.

Others are learning of our cohabitation and are less enthusiastic. I have heard "Oh, like the Brady Bunch" more times than I can count. People think we're: a) crazy; b) selfish; c) misguided; d) overly hopeful; or e) all of the above.

I just keep wishing for moments of normalcy. And then I remember, in a blended family, EVERYTHING is normalcy.

Home Sweet Almost Home

Unpacking. It is the bane of my moving existence.

I don't mind throwing it all together into boxes, the cleaning, the driving of the truck. I dislike the lifting and moving of said boxes, and the placement thereof into a moving van. But unpacking-- moving the boxes to a particular area, and then opening the box, removing items, finding homes for everything within... Just thinking about the whole process exhausts me.

Last night we got down to about 4 or 5 boxes. With correct positioning and a large enough table cloth, my troubles would be over. Alas, I will open the beastly things and find places for all the myriad crap stashed in them. One small step for my lazy ass, one giant leap toward a cohesive, organized household.

Tonight we have grand plans of finishing this unpacking, to be followed by one of my favorite-ist things ever: DECORATING for the Halloween party. Can't wait!

Office Sanctuary: Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros

Post Game Analysis: Week Three.

Reality has sunk in.

The apparent kid perspective: These people are not going to leave, but instead-- like fish or friends who have overstayed their welcome-- they got old after 3 days. GAAAWD! We're STUCK with these people for time to come (whoever "these people" may be at any given moment).

My children are sarcastic and loud.

His kids don't understand sarcasm and are sound sensitive.

My kids are hilarious.

His kids are pretty dang funny, as well.

All the children are bossy. Or kind. Or lazy. Or creative. Or rebellious. Or mindful.

OHMYGAWD these children are ALL INDIVIDUALS!!!! Who knew they came in so many different flavors?

AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT: These two get along really well until this one comes in, then no one gets along. Then suddenly this one and those two are total buddies until that other comes by, then the first two are not getting along AT ALL, the last two aren't getting along AT ALL, but somehow teams have formed and everyone is actually, somehow, getting along. Sassiness. Giddiness. Grumpiness. Bossiness. Tears. Laughter. Jokiness.

Silence? Never.

The moral of the week: Everyone is fine. At least until everyone is not fine.

Secret winning move

I will never lose again. You can also buy the shirt.