I don't pretend for a second that there is anything unique, special, categorical, etc. about my little tale of woe. I also don't imagine that, living in my beautiful two story house and driving my SUV, that I have it half as bad as say... a blind beggar in Bagdad.

BUT... for those of you out there who have survived the emotional upheaval and constant stress of living with ill-behaved, foul-tempered skids -- you will understand when I say, "The pain is REAL. The sense of grief is PROFOUND. The loss of control is OVERWHELMING. The dread of sitting down to dinner is POWERFUL."

I'll also say that, after months of trying to resolve things by putting SD1 on prozac and sticking her butt in therapy, the whole family is landing there soon in a big, oozing pile of dysfunction. There is plenty of culpability to go around. I'd say SD2 is probably holding up and taking the high road better than anyone else -- me, Dad, or SD1. And I freely admit that I've been reduced to a babbling, crying, hulking mass of rage and despair -- which I don't really consider useful, adult behavior (I have mostly saved my outburst for private moments -- it's dark and cozy in my walk-in closet).

Dad and I married about 20 months ago -- we had a wonderful, romantic private wedding. We "eloped" to avoid the predictable craziness on the part of his Ex. I have no kids, and so things should have continued along simply enough, with our being madly in love and truly happy for the first time in our adult lives. Making love at 2 p.m. on Sunday afternoon. Going to concerts. Eating leftover party snacks for dinner. Crying over old sappy movies together. Ahhhh, the salad days of my first 11 months as a newly wed!

The Ex was always nuts. I can't go into too many details without exposing my identity. I'll just say that as the skids turned 13, it became clear that the tension was escalating at home, and the emotional/verbal abuse was turning physical. We basically rescued them -- we hired a lawyer, got the papers changed, and voila, Dad became the primary custodian. Mom took off for points beyond -- she tried to maintain contact with the skids, but they didn't want her in their lives at all. We just gave it time and space and settled into our lives. They became ours. Full-time. No breaks. No local relatives to help out, and their pithy little collection of friends scattered like so many dust bunnies -- not a single parent of their friends stepped forward to so much as ask what had happened.

After the initial storm had passed, we moved into a beautiful new house where they each had their own space and their own private media room (they had been living in a small apartment piled on top of each other). They got lots of new clothes, new room decor, private lessons... I felt good about stepping into the role of "Mom" (not that they called me that, nor did I want them to) and I did everything I could to help them feel integrated, cared for, and... well, loved! I felt so, so sorry for them! I wanted them to be happy! I'd had a difficult childhood, and I'd wanted kids at one point... although, not anymore. I was COMMITTED to being a good, loving parent! I read tons of books on the subject!

("Ah!" you say, "I know what's coming.")

Well, the honeymoon wore off. Within 6 months, the effects of living with a slovenly, undisciplined, abusive nutcase became evident. Dinnertime became a battleground where we had to try to instill table manners in 14-year old teens who think it is okay to eat mac-n-cheese with one's fingers (and who still don't get that there is a problem with that). The reminders to make one's bed and pick up clothes are endless. Little things disappear from my closet and make-up drawer (I have bought a lock for my bathroom door). My email was hacked into -- they found a couple of relatively mild messages complaining about things, and they went bonkers (they did this while I was at a friend's funeral).

The list goes on and on and on.... once it became clear that, although I wasn't mom, and although I wasn't going to yell and smack them around, I HAD EXPECTATIONS for how we lived together and interacted, and TREATING ME LIKE A FREAKING LIVE-IN MAID WASN'T AN OPTION... I became "THE ENEMY."

I tried venting to their Dad. Oh yeah, I had some pinheaded idea that he would see I was being ill-treated and manipulated. He just resented me. So then I tried withdrawing all together -- try to live with 3 people and stop interacting with 2 of them -- see how long it takes for things to go completely to hell!

The withdrawing did accomplish one thing -- it forced DAD to clean up their disgusting bathroom, wash their dirty clothes, buy their online garbage, etc. etc. After about a month of being the parent responsible for EVERYTHING (when it had been me), he suddenly got the idea that maybe two 14-year old kids were capable of a few basic chores, particularly when they are paid a generous allowance every week to do them!

So now, I'm just trying to stop the cycle of fight/retreat/fight/retreat. I know that about the best thing I can do is let a lot of stuff slide. I don't really need to participate in the dinner conversation! Oh no! Even though I make dinner every night, you can monopolize the conversation, push your marinated pork tenderloin to the side, and then go have cupcakes in 10 minutes! I don't mind spending $120 a week on healthy meats and produce that I will cook at the end of a 9-hour work day so your dad can take you separately to Costco and spend $140 on junk food that you will eat 24x7! You can leave throw the $50 cocktail ring I bought you as a present to the bottom of your closet under your old sneakers! (I've stopped buying them gifts altogether.) Don't acknowledge me when I come home, or say goodbye as you leave for school in the clothes I worked so hard to put on your ungrateful little back! I'll come downstairs/upstairs and issue a friendly greeting!

I feel like a freaking untouchable in my own home. My husband has been pretty understanding about my despair at times, although it has been damned nearly impossible to get him TO STEP UP AND DISCIPLINE HIS CHILDREN. He's doing it a little now, just because they are finally turning on HIM as HE tries to assert SOME CONTROL over the situation. If he wasn't a pretty amazing guy, apart from wanting always be the HERO to his little darlings, NO DOUBT ABOUT IT. I would have walked about 4 months ago. I need this crap like a pickax in the head.

God help me, they will be driving in two years. Do I let them loose on the world behind the wheel of a car so they can terrorize the community and no doubt cause many $$$$ in property damage? Hell, if it buys me a couple of hours of time to hear myself think -- YOU BET I WILL.

Yes, they have been abandoned by their mother. Yes, they are just kids. Does this give them the right to treat the person who makes their new/improved lives like doo doo most every day? HA! I think not!!!

Whew. This felt good. But time to go home to the bee hive now. Got to rustle up some dinner for the little spider nest.

And yes, I know my attitude sucks. I work on it every day. This JUST was MY TIME AND SPACE to let it ALL HANG OUT!