I have found this to be a blessing and a curse. My SS17 is in his senior year of high school and since his summer of freshman year I have been watching him play basketball. I have not missed a single game, except 1 when I was sick. I love this boy and I love watching him play. It's been amazing to see the other kids on his team grow and play as well. Part of the enjoyment and pleasure behind it stems from a joyful and peaceful environment. His bio mom and extended family on her side are all great! We can sit together and chat at games. We can grab food afterward.

Yesterday I passed 60. I still don't feel any different than I did when I turned 18 until I look at the waist size on my 501s after the stiff and achy transition out of bed every AM. Fortunately, a warm shower akes care of that and I get back to as my bride says "being my usual 13yo PITA".  And the white bearded silver haired guy  looking back at me in the mirror can't possibly be me.

Has anyone else experienced this? Where your DH gets crabby, moody, and down because his kids have fully embraced their Mothership’s side and completely cut him off because of PAS?

In the mornings before work, he’s short with me—not his usual cheerful self. It’s like he’s carrying all this sadness and taking it out on me, whether he realizes it or not.

The one (big) reason this might actually be "on" topic is that I have always wondered if DH's untreated ADD/ADHD has been a major reason for so many issues with his former family NOT being handled back in the day. We have been in a place for a while now where he has compartmentalized, and that has seemed to work. As you all know, he sees his kids offsite. I am fully disengaged. But I can't help wondering if he would have been thinking more clearly back in the day, some of the turmoil and suffering would have been alleviated.  

Looks like they’re all reading straight from the Toxic Skid Playbook—same script, same nonsense.

I’m writing this because of MorningMia’s post, The dysfunctional theme/fantasy of SD's life

https://www.steptalk.org/forum/parenting/adult-stepchildren/dysfunctional-themefantasy-sds-life-280022#comment-1718285

The dysfunctional theme/fantasy of SD's life – The Problem - Why do they do this?

In an earlier blog I mentioned how Pumpkinhead's (OSS28) house looked as though it was abandoned and there was a giant pod storage bin in the driveway.  Well the cat is out of the bag.  Seems like they had a major plumbing leak in the summer and are now reporting that Pumpkinhead's leg broke through the ceiling of their upstairs bedroom down into the kitchen below.

SS isn't staying tonight.  He was going to be out with his friends until 10.  And yes I know that is normal, but the kid said he wanted to spend time with SO and when they made the arrangements he said he wouldn't go out with his friends he was coming here.  It was not to just shower and sleep.  SO told him no. I was shocked but SO had told me earlier in the day that if this happened he would tell him no.  He almost gave in to SS.  But of course he said that they can try again another night.  And we did find out from SD that he is trying to avoid BM.

Honestly, after this week, I've about had it. (Granted, some of my frustrations stem from ongoing health issues, but still...)

Happy Friday everyone!

My Birds are in the superbowl and of course took off Monday.  Looking forward to a long weekend of celebration whether or not they win.

What are your go to Superbowl dishes.

So far we are doing a pot of sauges, crack cups and cupcakes.  Its just DH and I this year for the game but we will eat.

GO BIRDS!!

We have been binge watching some very good shows. Good until likable characters cheat.  I grind my teeth, and am incensed when this happens.  I lose contact with reason and my intellect. Something I have never done on any other topic.  

My XW was a serially adulterous cheater.  Even nearly 35 years post divorce the topic is infuriating.  Cheating is obviously my lingering baggage and major trigger.  I have zero tolerance for it to the point that it drives a visceral revulsion at the core of my being for the slime that does it. Even when it is fiction.