I really need to post more often...I'm behind. But I'm catching back up.
The kids spend 6 weeks every summer at Stella's, where they are given the Disneyland treatment...Marsha is doted on, and taken shopping for clothes that no girl her age (13) should probably be wearing, no matter how in style they are. And Johnny is...well...seems like the kid is pretty much ignored, or treated like a toy that's taken out whenever Stella or another relative feels like playing with him, but otherwise he's left to play video games. They are fed a ton of junk food, allowed to stay up as late as they want (which in Marsha's case, has turned into all-nighters a few times over), and left to sit around.
Before the kids left, I, along with Guy, had set up an Instagram account and a Facebook profile for Marsha, so that she wouldn't be doing so while in Stella's care which could result in our being blocked from seeing what she's doing online. We put together a list of rules that included things like, "Posts containing personal drama are not allowed and will be deleted," and "Bad language and/or lewd pictures will not be tolerated on your account, nor anyone else's, and any connections displaying such profanity or pictures will be removed from your contacts list and blocked." There were others, as well, but it doesn't matter now! Marsha has pretty much violated every single rule on the list. Especially the, "DO NOT FRIEND/FOLLOW/ALLOW FOLLOW-BACKS FROM PEOPLE YOU DO NOT KNOW." Jesus H. Christ. WHY is that one so hard to understand?
From where I am, I have been monitoring Marsha's accounts as best I could (as much as he tries, Guy just doesn't understand social media, doesn't really want to, and finds it a nuisance so he leaves that up to me)...without censoring so much that it would cause her to complain to Stella...although, even with the little bit of monitoring and censorship I've done (hello...Stella is obviously not paying attention...Marsha has been sending her photos around to random "beauty contests" on Instagram, and there are people in her feed who are posting completely inappropriate pictures...such as a large, black woman bent over, no underwear, with her va-jay-jay hanging out for everyone to see...that doesn't need to be popping up in ANYONE's Instagram, let along that of a 13-year-old girl)....I've still gotten bitched at by Stella. Whatever. I'll never win.
So a couple of weeks ago, I dared to text Marsha on the cell phone that's provided to her by Stella on Stella's parenting time (something we didn't know about until Marsha told us that her mom had been giving her a cell phone on long visits, until a week before the kids left this summer). All I was trying to do for chrissakes was ask the kid what sport she wanted to be signed up for. Hours went by with no reply, so I tried texting her again. The kid finally got back to me. No "thank you" no nothing. Just "I was busy. I'll play volleyball." Um...ok. The next day, Guy gets a note from Stella stating that she wants him, to tell me, not to text Marsha anymore and not to expect her to answer the texts I send "every 5 minutes." o.O? Five days go by. Guy has had a few phone convos with the kids. Reminded Marsha that she needed to thank me for signing her up for volleyball...kid says, "Yeah, I know, I'll do it later." On the 6th night after the sports conversation via delayed text, the kids call Guy for their nightly catch-up and I actually answer the phone (which I don't usually do). Marsha says hi and, "Oh yeah...thanks for volleyball!" To which I replied, "Sorry Marsha....actually that 'thank you' is a bit late, and since you clearly had time to post selfies online but not take a few seconds to even text me a thank you, I haven't signed you up." "Uh, what do you mean?" "I haven't signed you up, given your ingratitude and I don't know if I'm going to. We'll have to talk when you get home." "Uh, ok whatever." "Yup. Whatever."
A few days later, I had checked Marsha's Instagram and found all of the beauty contests, and a bunch of "TBH" (to be honest) comments from people that said, "I don't know you...but...tbh...your dimples are cute." Uh...ok. So who is that person, Marsha? Clearly no one who knows you. I started culling her account. She went from following 640ish people down to 580, and from being followed by 720ish people down to 680 or so. I realize that amassing the greatest number of followers/friends/whatevers is a display of social standing with these kids, but again, Jesus H. Christ. That's ridiculous.
Around 11pm that night, Marsha is FREAKING OUT ABOUT HER INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT. She's texting me, she's Facebook messaging me, she's calling, she's calling the house phone because I ignored all of her other attempts at getting a hold of me at 11pm...so THEN she calls Guy's phone, he lets it go to voicemail, and she leaves him a message. "Uh, yeah...HELLO, this is MARSHA, YOUR DAUGHTER. Um, I need to know what's going on with my Instagram account, because a bunch of my followers have been removed, and I know you don't really deal with that stuff but OtherMother does, and I need to know what's going on, or I need to change my password because I've been hacked. Call me back." Well, ok then!
Guy did end up calling her back, and he put her in her place, thankfully. No, she should NOT be blowing us up after 11pm on a week night over social media. Her tone in that message was not ok, and we'll do what we like with her account and she has no say, so suck it up buttercup. She shut up. But man, I'm still pissed. Pissed because she was so fucking rude. And we haven't had a chance to resolve it because she's been gone and her dear mother probably was using that opportunity to badmouth me. Predictably.
I realize all of this sounds petty. I do. I realize that Guy and I have pretty much no control over what Marsha does while she's with her mother. I realize that all of the selfies, and lack of awareness with online activities and their reach is very typical of kids Marsha's age. I realize that the fashions right now for tween/teen girls are pretty skimpy. But those are all things we don't allow in our home. Marsha will COVER UP. Her clothes will actually have to fit the guidelines provided in the school dress code (so, only thick-strap tanks, no deep v-necks, no midriff tops - all shirts have to cover ALL of her belly on their own - her fingertips and the hems of her shorts have to touch the same spot when her arms are down at her sides...), no more freaking selfies online (we all know what she looks like....or at the very least, she needs to keep the number to a minimum), bedtime is before 3am (yeah! Sounds funny! But she's apparently been going to bed between 3am and 5am every day if she hasn't been staying up all night....), no more Instagram since she's proven she can't use it safely nor appropriately, no more unlocked cell phone (and no more cell phone after 10pm, period). She'll also have to lose the acrylic nails her grandmother took her to get (seriously? For a 13 year old who plays sports? Stupid.). And we're not going to let her keep up the ombre-red/blonde hair dye job that her mom and "Mommy's bestie!" gave Marsha the first week she was at her mom's. Kid needed a HAIRCUT. Kid was not given haircut. Now kid has to have at least 3 inches cut off in order to get rid of the dead ends on her hair...which will also get rid of some of the dye job. Kid is being brought back to reality, and it's not going to be pretty.
Marsha is only 13!! I think Stella sees so much of herself in that kid that she's now living vicariously through her. Which is why at such a young age, Marsha has been permitted to dye her hair, get fake nails, and dress a few years above her age (and even if she were a few years older, I still wouldn't like what she's wearing and find it too skimpy!! But at least at a few years older she'd have a better understanding of the messages she's sending others by the way she's dressing, and be better able to handle how people will treat her because of that). The kid is being encouraged to grow up too fast. And when she comes home, we have to reel her back in and remind her that she's 13, and she'll look like she's 13, and she'll be treated like she's 13. The reprogramming is horrible. Taking away the freedoms Stella gave Marsha is no fun either...but those freedoms were something that shouldn't have been given to the child in the first place.
To top it off, I've spoken to the kids maybe a handful of times since they left for that visit. I get it...kinda. Stella really doesn't encourage the kids to talk to me, because she hates me (and, well, the feeling is mutual). Johnny is too young, at nearly 9 years old, to know what to do. Plus, he doesn't really like the phone. Marsha, though, is old enough to know better. She's been talking ABOUT me clearly, based on some of the nasty-grams Guy has received this summer, and every summer the kids have been gone since the custody change. But she doesn't want to talk TO me or show me respect. She wants me to sign her up for sports, and cart her around, and buy her things when she gets home. But she doesn't want to treat me appropriately or graciously. I'm the kids' main caretaker 80% of the time. 300 days a year. But when they're gone, Marsha badmouths me, and I'm treated as if I shouldn't exist. It sucks.
So with Guy's permission, I'll be treating Marsha as if SHE doesn't exist. She doesn't want to be kind to me? Well, then I don't have to interact with her. Coming to accept that it's ok for me to do that as a step-parent was hard. The thought of disengaging made me feel like I was giving up, and I don't want to give up. It also made me feel like I was failing as a parent, but since I'm the step-parent, I actually get to disengage from the kids when I feel I need to. Guy and I agreed that if Marsha isn't going to treat me like a mother, then I'm not going to act like one to her. I'll be a nanny. I don't owe her anything, I just need to make sure she doesn't get into trouble and is well-behaved at home, and when she misbehaves I will send her to her room, report to Guy, and he'll deal with her when he's home. Guy is fully ready, and has been, to step up and just handle her on his own, and he and I agreed that if Marsha gives me attitude, she can go to her room. Period. Maybe a bit of time in "solitary" will improve her mood.
I feel badly that I just don't like that kid. Johnny is awesome, by contrast. Sweet, appreciative, kind, and he doesn't argue with me (I know one day he'll start...but he doesn't right now). So in turn, I reward him by getting him extra stuff for sports and bending over backward to make sure he can do the activities he wants to do. I'm nice to him. I'll do things for him above and beyond the normal day-to-day care taking. Because the kid deserves it. Marsha of course sees this and believes that I'm playing favorites. It takes a lot of restraint not to bitch at her, but I bite my tongue and just remind her that people who are nice to me get niceties in return.
I hope it gets easier. I'm not sure it will. Marsha is still in therapy, it doesn't always seem to be working, but we're trying to get her some perspective. And in the meantime, I'm trying not to dread the kids' homecoming too much...but it's not easy.
