parenting is tough…

that sentence needs to sink in, reader, because it really is true. the adage that parenting is tough is a thing. how big a thing? well, it’s an even bigger thing when you’re trying to parent in a blended family.

i’m on my third ex mrs. benton (i’m sure she’s going to love that, but fuck it, it’s my blog). i love her to pieces. other than we have such polar opposite views on how to parent, we get along swimmingly.

i don’t want to pamper or give any sense of entitlement or even hint at spoiling any of the children. i believe that kids need to understand responsibility, be respectful and appreciate what it means to earn a buck. in my opinion, the mrs., not so much. for example, yesterday she was late to work by 15 or so minutes because she took the oldest child to the bus stop. she normally does this when he’s running late himself. he has an odd habit of staying up late on a school night and doesn’t understand why she’s yelling at him over his alarm to get out of bed. weird. not only did she take him to the stop, she sat with him until the bus came because a slight drizzle coming down. let me emphasize that it really was, just a slight drizzle. so, initially, i asked myself, why? …why? i don’t fucking get it. does he not have clothes that would be an impediment to conditions outside? do we not own one of those things with a handle that opens up to a circular canopy that can cover ones body from such elements? i mean, at times, i may be a cheap ass when it comes to spending, but i’m sure i splurged on such items. this is something that i wouldn’t do.

mayhaps, it stems from my past and how i was raised. i can recall standing outside at my bus stop, regardless of adverse weather conditions. there would be inches of snow that pressed up inside my pant legs, then gently thaw from the diminishing  heat of my calves. with each passing second i could feel my striped athletic socks dampen until they were finally soaked against my skin. that’s how i grew up. no sympathy from my mom or dad.

yesterday, i took my son to school too. not to the bus stop because his school is 30 miles away, but closer to where he lives with his mom. it was a train wreck of an entrance. there was flooding in the parking lot so the cars and buses (omfg, only one entrance to the school?!) that were heading in to drop off students were backed up for what seemed like half a mile, in both directions! we were in the left hand turn lane at the light to the school and it was getting really close to the bell. i told my son to get ready because i wasn’t going into the parking lot to drop him off. i was going to make a u-turn and then let him out. he could walk, or run, in the slight drizzle to school. after 10 minutes of waiting, i finally get the chance to make the u-turn, pull off onto the shoulder, and told him i loved him. he said, “i love you too, dad.” he jumped out of the car and into a puddle so deep it came to his shins. he just stood there for a second and his face said, fuck my life.

i said, “don’t just stand there. get to school already!”

parenting is tough…