“Why doesn’t my step mom like you?” He asks me from the backseat. The question posed was so out of context that it startled me. Unfortunately this isn’t the first time nor anywhere near the last that my son will question the dynamic relationships in his life. I gulped down the desire to list a few thousand reasons why she would and should dislike me, but opted for the truth instead. “There are a lot of emotions that you have when you are an adult that you may not understand when you are a kid. Your step mom is good to you and good to your brother and that is all that matters to me.” I tell him, hoping that he will drop it. We have had such tension with my children’s other parents lately that I have had to squash the amount of contact with my children in order to protect them from unnecessary drama. I love being a mother more than anything in the world, I absolutely loath being an ex-wife. It comes with its own set of ridiculous crap. I am not very good at this, but I am trying. “I know why.” he matter-of-facts. “she says we just get dirty and hurt here.” He says, referring to the dirt on his hands and pants from the past three hours we spent playing around at the skate park. I reached into my purse and hand him a handi-wipe to tide him over until we get back to the house. It is true, my children get dirty and sometimes in the process they get hurt. Activities that involve movement and children generally pose some risk of a minor scrap, a bonked head or a ripped up pair of levis. This doesn’t deter me from being an active parent, and it doesn’t deter my children from loving every minute of it. My son is seven, but an ancient seven. He is a little sponge absorbing everything in his surroundings and taking it in to use later. This is great, in most cases not involving misplaced swear words. He is very aware of what is happening in his home, even if it goes unspoken. When baby daddy and I got into a disagreement over the toaster oven, This little genius calmly told us both that we may need to take a break from each other and take a nap. He was right, we did. I mull the words over in my head. Do I tell him that I think their other parents standards are somehow misaligned with my own? Would this solve anything? No, it would not. Do I explain to him that playing in the dirt will in fact get you dirty and that we do it anyway because it is fun and a bath is just the icing on the cake? Naw, defending myself or my parenting tactics is a moot point at this juncture. I think for a moment, before telling him that I love him. I remind him that our family is our family no matter what and that even if some people don’t get along, he is the most loved little boy I know of. I tell him that I want him to be comfortable and if he ever feels uncomfortable in my home that he is welcome to discuss it with me and we will fix it. I glance in the rear view as he is comfortably picking at the rocks between the sole of his shoe. He looks up and smiles at me. He is a child. He may be smart and aware and relatively logical when it comes to the people around him, but he is still just a kid. He is a boy from divorce with an affinity for inciting hot topic discussion when all I want to do is spend time with him and see him on his skateboard. So to answer the question he posed. Why does his step mom hate me? I am sure that I know why. I am sure that part of it is well deserved and I am certain that it doesn’t matter one bit to how we live, how we love, and who we are.

Whats the most frustrating part of being a parent for you?

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