Poisonous Fairytales

Little girls have been raised to believe that Prince Charming will tirelessly travel to every house for miles and miles until he finds his true love… this, after mice are magically transformed into horses. We’re programmed to believe that those who love us (parents, siblings, lovers, fairy godmothers) will do whatever it takes… whatever that means.

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RE: Blending Families; The Imperative Inquisition

Blended Family Territory is difficult to navigate. It doesn’t matter which branch of the tree you represent nor does it matter how old you are or where you live. At some point, everyone reaches his/her own “WTF!?!?!?” moments. I wanted to plot a map of this new territory, so I called upon my sister and we pinged Stepsister on Facebook:

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Child Support…?

I think I was about fifteen when I brought up the subject…

“You shouldn’t be spending it that way,” I told my mother. “The money you get from Dad is child support. It’s for us. You should put it in a special account and use it to pay for things we need. Things like clothes and school events and Sister’s daycare… anything left over should be saved for college.”

“You’re right,” Mom said. “It is child support. And part of supporting you is putting a roof over your head and food on the table and gas in my car so I can take you where you need to go.”

In short, what she said was, “Your father gives me money to spend as I see fit. Butt out.”

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Striving For Zen-ness…

I think I’m done venting for the time being. Thank you for bearing with me through my momentary madness.

Today I encountered the following poem and have decided to share it in an effort to turn this literary mood to a more peaceful state. If I’d remembered this gem a few days ago, I could’ve saved myself a bunch of angry outbursts…

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