So very grateful to have happened upon this forum. It's been extremely helpful to read the stories of folks going through similar similar situations in their experience of parenting their significant others children. Although I'm not a step-parent officially, I've been living with my fiance for a little over a year and a half. She has two boys, seven and ten, both of whom I get along with to the point where they refer to me as their step-dad both in public. Consequently I write this with a heavy heart, as I'm very much on the fence about whether or not I can stand living with them any longer. A little back story.

I'm a divorced male in my early 40's. My fiance and I met online a little under two years ago. At the time she shared joint custody with the SKIDS' BF whom she did not get along with. Although they split because the SKIDS BF was caught cheating on her, BF told his friends and family it was because she was a bad mother. A few months after we met the SKIDS' BF died of a heart attack and a couple of months later I moved in with them. She was working full-time and as I work from home I would wash & fold the SKIDS clothes pick them up from school, take them to sports, etc. It seemed the right thing to do, what with me working from home and all.

At the end of the year, we got engaged, not so much because either of us felt the need (having both been married previously), but because she felt it was important for the SKIDS sense of security in the aftermath of their BF's death and so I agreed. A few weeks after our engagement she quit her job due to as yet undetermined health issues. Although she'd been making good money, she hated her job and dealing with the aftermath of her ex’s death, as well as the boys was had become too much for her. Given that she stated there was enough money coming in from her ex’s estate to make up for the loss of income, I agreed that she should take some time off from work.

As I've gotten to know her better however, I've come to recognize that she does not handle stress well at all. Whereas I tend to tackle things in a more direct manner, she tends to retreat. I sure wish I’d recognized as much previously or taken more time to get to know her better before moving in with her. A huge red flag, albeit a few months late, was a conversation we had earlier this year in which she revealed she’d never wanted kids but had them because her ex wanted them. She also admitted that without me she wouldn't be able to raise the kids alone and that she was feeling suicidal prior to my arrival. She often jokingly admits to fantasies of leaving the country so she can get out of being a parent, which I suspect is more serious than she admits.

Despite that, I've set these admissions aside and set my sights upon taking the high road (as so many of us here seem to have done). Having come from a broken family myself, I know the effects it can have on a child and the last thing I want to do is to inflict the same suffering on an innocent being that was inflicted upon me. I didn't meet my dad until I was 17 and having grown intolerant of my mother's alcoholism and erratic behavior (we lived in well over two dozen different locations over the course of my upbringing), I left home when I was 16. Looking back I believe that's why I never had kids in the first place, but I never really understood why until now.

Fast forward twenty some odd years and I finally find that noble dictum has come home to roost. Given my chaotic upbringing I place a high premium upon peace and quiet and when the SKIDS are home it's absolute and utter chaos, what with the constant fighting, whining and crying. This is particularly troubling when I'm working, which is pretty much round the clock considering I'm self-employed. I can't tell you how many times I've told them not to bother me while I'm working, they still burst in complaining about one another and uttering the dread announcement, "I'm hungry!", which has come to resemble the sound of nails on a chalkboard for me.

Another issue I find particularly troubling is the filth. Despite my chaotic upbringing I was raised to respect cleanliness and pick up after myself. Well, all three of them are absolute slobs, leaving clothes, cups and plates wherever they happen to be at the time. It's not uncommon for me to find several glasses of rotten milk at their bedsides. And though my fiance will often moan about how dirty the house is, she does very little to do anything about it herself. The only time the house gets cleaned is when I do it myself, or when the cleaners come.

Although I've addressed the above issues with both the SKIDS and my fiance on several occasions there's been little in the way of change. My fiance recently began working from home part-time and we now share the same office space, which has become totally trashed and entirely unpleasant to work in. She knows how I feel about this but does nothing about it. I've made several attempts to get the SKIDS on a schedule of daily chores with points earned for things they want, but I've given up as it's just plain exhausting trying to keep them on the straight and narrow.

Having grown up without a father I have no point of reference for how to discipline children. That said, I've been winging it for the most part and though I've been quite hard on them, which I feel they need, particularly as their BF had no disciplinary style whatsoever, I've never been physically abusive. Nonetheless, my fiance has corrected in front of them several times when she feels I've crossed the line, which has made me feel totally undermined in my effort to instill the kind of discipline their father should have developed in them by the time I arrived upon the scene. This is particularly disconcerting when I see and hear her do the same things all the time.

All of this leads me to where I am today: wondering if all of the above is worth the minimal amount of enjoyment I experience in their presence. Although at first I was quite taken with my fiance, the lack of respect she has for herself has turned me off and I miss being single. Although at one time I thought I'd like to have kids of my own, this experience has turned me off of kids. I realize now that I'm not parenting material myself and this is as far as I ever want to go with parenting kids, be they my own, or otherwise. Although I do love my fiance & the SKIDS very much, I just plain can't stand living with them and am very much on the fence about whether or not to continue or go back to the life I had before. I know the grass is always greener, but that last patch of grass was one hell of a lot quieter and cleaner.

I hate the idea of causing them pain, particularly the SKIDS, given their BF's passing. I also fear for what may happen to them in light of their mother's admissions about her own parenthood, however I feel as though I've made a huge mistake and am doomed to a life of misery and despair if I stick around. Although I appreciate any observations you guys may have about what I've written, I don't expect any answers as I know they're already within me. Just having a hard time distinguishing between what would be the most selfish and/or selfless thing to do and reconciling myself between the two.