Who is the Adult Here?

Today's got me feeling a little like girlfriend above.

It's been a while since I wrote about stepmom issues, but today, one definitely came up. There's something about being a stepparent that makes me doubt myself and feel ashamed from time to time. Today was one of those days. For the stupidest reason, I got jealous today of my stepson. I'm embarrassed to even write it, but confessing will probably make me feel better. Maybe. Here goes:

I'm jealous because my husband is taking my stepson to Six Flags Hurricane Harbor tomorrow. Do I like theme parks? Hell, no. Do I enjoy water parks? Absolutely not. So, why am I jealous? It's fairly transparent to me that I am jealous of the time that my husband will be spending with my stepson, and, I'm angry because I will be stuck at home all day. I don't have clearance to drive yet since my knee surgery, and the only place within walking distance that I could actually make it to without killing myself is the grocery store, Ralph's. It would be weird for not only me, but the store clerks as well, if I hung out at Ralph's for longer than an hour. Oh, I could do it, though. I could spend at least 45 minutes smelling those delicious Paula Deen candles. That broad can really make some sweet scented wax! Or, I could stay home and watch QVC or HSN. When you're stranded at home for weeks on end, it's amazing what you'll force yourself to watch. Anyone seen "Quacker Factory"? Jeanne Bice is pure glamor in her fetching holiday sweaters. Don't believe me? Check this out: http://www.quackercruise.com/Home_Page_Quacker_Cruise_and_Vacations.html

You know you're booking that cruise with me.

I've also cleared my calendar for Monday, August 16, to watch Marie Osmond's 19th Anniversary Doll Show on QVC. If you haven't been sufficiently creeped out lately, look at these:

How do you feel now? Would you feel better or worse if I told you that boy doll is named 'Donny'? Because it is. You, too, can have your very own "Baby Donny Little Bit Rock n Roll" for only $99.95. I'm not kidding.

In the meantime, while waiting patiently for Marie Osmond's anniversary, I will find some way of getting over my jealousy. I huffed a little and tried to explain this to my husband, but I don't want to be a total baby. It's just that he is so busy all the time--working, training for a triathlon, planning stuff for his son--that at times I feel overlooked. The times I get to spend with him are usually wedged between all the other obligations, but the kid gets a whole planned day of fun without interruptions. I know--he's the kid and that's what parents do. I'll get over it eventually.

I Miss Iowa?

My husband had to go out of town for five days for a physics conference (fun!), and since I'm still laid up with my bum knee, I had to stay home. That was a bummer, because the conference was in Portland--a city I haven't been to yet but desperately want to visit. So many of my friends and family members have told me they think I'd love Portland--especially since many neighborhoods there maintain the vibrant mid-century modern architectural style that I love. So, since I couldn't go along, my mom and aunt decided to come to L.A. to keep me company and take me to my appointments. I still have to go to physical therapy twice a week, and there are many doctors appointments, too. I can't drive, and they thought it would be fun to chauffeur me around and get a mini California vacation.

It was so much fun seeing them. My aunt had never seen our new place, so it was fun showing her the "urban" life of Culver City--like the egret, blue heron, and cormorant that live in my backyard. It's like living in the wetlands--not the second largest city in the country. More like "A River Runs Through It" than "Boyz in the Hood." One of the best things about seeing my mom and aunt is that they love to shop, so they'll take me anywhere I want as long as there is something to buy. I'm not kidding that they shopped the gift shop at the carwash. Yes, the carwashes here have gift shops--and good ones, too, I might add. And, for some reason (and I'm not complaining here), they always want to buy me things. I scored a very cool pink polka-dotted dress (that my husband said looked like something Betty Draper would wear), a Marc Jacobs handbag and matching laptop case (!!!!!), a pair of sensible shoes (comfort shoes are still killing my fashion pride), and many dinners out. In addition, we stayed up late watching old movies (Gidget--Sandra Dee!), gossiping, laughing...just having a good time. And then they left.

I don't know what happened, but their departure was rough on me. I cried several times yesterday like a baby, and it's hard to understand why. It's always been hard for me when leaving Iowa to come back to L.A., and I'll get a little teary on the plane, but usually after several days of guests, I'm ready to have my place back to myself. Not so yesterday. And, all day today, I've had this hollow, empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I miss my family and I miss Iowa. I start thinking that maybe being so far away from my family is a mistake, and that someday when they're gone, I'll regret that I moved so far away. Maybe this is just a part of growing older. Luckily, my friend Sara called to be my "Robo Wake-Up Call." She reminded me that there was nothing left for me in Waterloo, Iowa. That's probably true, but I still miss it. I don't look down on anyone who lives in Iowa--in fact, I'm jealous. I love the cold and snow. I love the heat, humidity, the storms. I miss the lightning bugs, being able to find a parking space at Target, and the way the stars look in the country--far from the city lights. Sara said she feels the same way after her family leaves--she's from Des Moines, so she knows the midwest, too. But, at the same time, she has her sister living in Phoenix, so she always has some family around. I'm an only child, and the closest things I have to siblings--my cousins--all live in Iowa with their families. I'm sad that I only get to see them a couple of times a year.

As with all homesickness, it will fade with time, I'm sure. That's one of the hard things about visiting family--whether here or there. It's so much fun while it's happening, but the withdrawal can be brutal. It's also hard to go from days packed with activities to being back in bed, staring at the TV.

I realize I need some kind of change. I feel down and unattractive in this stupid leg cage, so I'll do one of the few things I can think of right now as a pick-me-up. I'm going to blonde myself tomorrow. Something to feel like I've seen at least a peek of the summer sun.

How to Push My Buttons--Literally and Figuratively

A couple of things that crossed my mind today that I thought were funny. Sorry if you don't, but I'm going to write about them anyways.

First of all, I've been taking a lot of elevators lately, since it takes so long to walk upstairs in this leg brace that I call "the cage." (I think I'll call it 'Nick' for short). Usually, I'm not the only person waiting for the elevator, especially since I'm just going to physical therapy or the doctor with other incapacitated persons. But, what is it with people pushing the elevator buttons dozens of times? Once is enough. It's not like the elevator has a brain and thinks, "Oh, wow! 17 people have pushed the button on that floor. I'd better hurry, or I'll have a shit storm of angry patrons. They'll never ride me again, and I'll lose my job...won't be able to feed my family. I'd better haul ass now!!" The same goes for hitting the button to get the walk sign. People--the lights are timed. You're just telling it to include the walk sign once it changes.

Second, I think it's great that many people still write thank you notes. I'm all for manners, and thank you notes are pretty old school, so I don't really care if someone just gives me a heartfelt verbal thank you on the spot or later. Even an email will do. Now, I shouldn't complain about getting a thank you note in the mail, but I'm going to, because I have a friend that I believe sends me a thank you note for a gift before I've even left her home. I have seriously received the thank you note the next day in the mail, and in a city like Los Angeles, that either means she's Johnny-on-the-Spot Extreme or she's creeping up to my mailbox in the middle of the night, but since my home alarm hasn't gone off, I'll assume it's the former. Why would this bug me? Well, when I get a thank you note immediately after giving a gift, it feels so perfunctory-- like a formality that must be gotten out of the way. It's like my friend is a Stepford Wife who just uploads niceties from her brain into an envelope the second I've left her porch. Wait a few days. Make me wonder. Think of me as that guy you like but don't want to call right away after the first date, lest you seem too eager...desperate. Or, at least make me think that you're so enthralled by the perfume, book, guitar, lite brite, or gold-panning kit I've given you that you just couldn't tear yourself away to write that thank you for a couple of days. But don't wait more than a week, because that's just rude.

Isn't it Cool When Things Turn Out the Way You Want?

I sure think so. I guess I'm a tough customer, because it doesn't happen very much. My expectations are always too high. With a job and homelife about as unpredictable as Lindsay Lohan, I like it when things turn out the way they're supposed to--according to my brain. I'm referring to the picture here of my living room.

This is some art work that my husband and I created last week. We bought the shapes several months ago and planned what we wanted, but we didn't have a good block of time to put it all together until last week. My husband spray painted each one, we measured out the grid on the wall with string, and voila! I love being married to an engineer, because you know that everything will by leveled, measured, and calculated to the max. We were both very happy with how it turned out. We've been in the process of turning our 1970s place into a more mid-century modern kind of place. We have huge walls to fill, and we didn't want to spend a fortune, so we chose our own "do-it-yourself" project. To me, it's perfect!

Since I've been laid up in bed lately, I've been reading a lot. I just finished an interesting book called Furious Love: Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, and the Marriage of the Century. At first I thought their marriage was so romantic, but as I kept reading, I realized it was just a horrible case of co-dependency. Seriously, that book just made me want to drink Jack Daniels and pick incredible fights with my husband, because that's what I was reading about all day long. Wow, those two had some blowouts! Still, it was a fascinating read.

A few of my friends from college have new books out that I'm excited to recommend. Julia Story's new book of poetry, Post Moxie, has been garnering praise and multiple award since its recent publication. The book is hauntingly gorgeous. Marc Rahe has a new book of poetry called The Smaller Half, and it, too, is full of surprises and beauty. Both of these talented poets have been writing for a long time and know how to craft some of the most interesting contemporary poetry I've read in a long time. Another friend from college, Joshua Ferris, was recently named to the New Yorker's Twenty Under Forty for his fiction. His first novel, And Then We Came to the End, was a National Book Award finalist, and Stephen King just named his second novel, The Unnamed, as one of the summer's must-reads. How did he do that? He was always talented, but I actually remember him complimenting me on my writing back in the day. Where's my Pulitzer?!

More Boring Summer Stuff

It is now two weeks since my surgery, and things are going well. I've learned I have a high pain tolerance, which means I don't have to take those nasty narcotics. I can see how people get hooked on them, because they gave me a euphoric feeling, but the nausea, headaches, and dizziness just couldn't make up for a short period of bliss. I have now gone to two physical therapy sessions, which, sadly, I look forward to--it's one of my few outings. Today, my husband asked me why I was putting on makeup and jewelry for therapy. I guess it's to trick myself into thinking that I'm going to a social event. I even wish I was back to work sometimes, and as a teacher, summers off are one of our few perks.

My stepson will be leaving on Sunday for two weeks with his mother. It will be weird to have him gone so long. Some of my stepmother friends have told me they feel sorry for me because we have 50/50 custody, but I actually see it as a benefit. If he were only here every other weekend or during the summer, it would feel more like an intrusion on our home life. But, knowing that he's coming over regularly has forced me to prepare and accept that this is a huge part of my life. On the other hand, it also never lets me get too comfortable in either situation--as just a newly married couple or as a "family." I'm not sure what it will be like to have two weeks without seeing my stepson. My husband will be gone for work during most of one of the weeks, but my family is visiting from Iowa--probably just to make sure I don't fall in the shower and break my neck.

I've really felt for my husband lately, because while I think the role of a childless stepmom is hard, I think his role as the father is often harder. He has so many people to please and negotiate with--me, his son, his ex-wife, his mother and father. We all demand things from him. This doesn't even count the rigors and expectations of his work. He hardly has any time left for himself, and sometimes I feel bad for not stepping in to relieve him of his parenting duties. Sure, I'll look after my stepson--I'm not a total cold fish--but I have chosen not to be a parent myself, and I know I don't have to be a parent to my stepson. He's already got two parents. I try to help when I can, but I don't overstep my boundaries, and I'm thankful that my husband doesn't expect me to be a mother, maid, or babysitter. I would go crazy if he did.

Now on to the good stuff--I've been watching "The Hills." There. I said it. Now I feel better for getting this off my chest. A couple of months ago, I turned it on while I was cleaning, as it was the only thing half-interesting on. I like to watch the news, but only Fox was showing actual news. I'm too sick of those "To Catch a Predator" on MSNBC, and the local news is just chicks with huge boobs doing the weather. There's no way I was going to watch Fox, so I watched "The Hills." Those kids are crazy! My favorite part is partying vicariously through Brody Jenner, even though he is King Douche. No, Prince Douche, because Spencer is the King. I'd seen all of season 5 and 6, so the past week, I've been watching the earlier seasons online. I'm hooked. My husband makes fun of me, and I know it's stupid, mindless pop culture crap, but what's wrong with that every once in a while? Shoot, if Ken Burns would've documented this, it would've been labeled a masterpiece. So, I'm going to watch away, because the series finale is so close. What will I do without my "friends"?

Some Recent Pictures

I used to wear these shoes.

But now I have to wear these....

Why? Because of this: (Warning to the squeamish)

This is my knee one week after my MPFL reconstructive surgery. Isn't it beautiful? It actually doesn't hurt that much, and believe it or not, the scars will probably not look as bad as the one on my left knee pictured above. That scar was acquired when I was just 17 years old. I'm thinking about getting a tattoo of a zipper on that one. That would crack me up. Next Wednesday, I get the sutures removed, but I have to wear the huge brace for at least five more weeks. Oh, you wanna see that? Here it is:

Doesn't it look so comfortable??

Luckily, I have these to keep me company and make me laugh:

Bump Alert!

I've been talking to some of my childless stepmom friends online and asked them what phrases or words from parenthood irritate them the most. Here are a few of mine:

1. Playdate: I've mentioned this in previous posts. Since when did it become a date? It's worse when I hear kids say it, as if they are savvy enough to be scheduling social events on their calendars. Maybe they should have a special Toddlers/Kids section on match.com to set up these affairs. It's a date!

2. Mommy Brain: Um, no. Lazy, forgetful--yes. (Okay, not always, but come on. Another way to use your parenthood as an excuse).

3. Bump: It's not a bump when you're pregnant. Bumps are like bruises you get when you fall down. On second thought... It's gross when celebrity magazines or entertainment news shows have a section on "Bump Alerts" or "Bump Watch," as if it's a national security issue. Does it raise the security level to orange? Pink? Blue?