Well, @june72, I hope The Men have gone and had a look-see.
@DanceQueen, the "that" is presumably the breakup of things with Signore 2.
Yesterday sure was an interesting day. Full moon on 30/31, then the 1-year of "The Big D(ecision)," and not two but THREE interventions required on The Boy.
About 3 hours after I posted "Puzzled No More," I wound up Puzzling Myself. STBXMRSSP called again at dinner time. I was dam tempted to ignore the call when I saw the caller i.d., but for whatever reason I didn't -- and I'm glad I didn't.
There was a tone in her voice unlike any I'd ever heard. It was wavering, she'd obviously been crying, and it was clearly hard for her to get the words out. She and The Girl Herself were in the car, in the garage, avoiding The Boy, who was raging against the injustices of the world, his mother, his sister. She fled to her car because The Boy had apparently been taking every minute of the day to poke, prod, and otherwise torment his sister. He was simply too much for her to handle.
Okay. I'm as happy as the next fellow to talk smack about STBXMRSSP's comparative kitchenesque incompetence -- she burned out a pan boiling water once -- and to p*ss and moan about her various and sundries petty cruelties, but she was clearly in distress and Himself was clearly out-of-control, so it was time to set my ego aside and Take Care of Business.
So I talked her off the ledge (so to speak), and I talked to The Girl, and then I asked to talk with The Boy.
Yeah. He was waaaaaaaaaayyyyyy out there. Plan 9 from Outer Space out there. It was work, but I managed to get him to comply. Oddly enough, it's a good thing that he's sort of afraid of me in a way. He knows what he can get away with with me, and he knows what he can get away with with his mother.
(Yes, @Gypsy, you're right -- none of my business, let her figure it out, etc. I caved. Absolutely. I suck as an ex. Can't help it. But when she's got to hide The Girl away, I have to step in.)
But I got it comparatively straightened out, and when STBXMRSSP came back online, she was still crying. But what about bedtime? What time do you usually get him to bed? Around 9. No, that's too late. 8:30, not a minute later, and preferably 8:15. That's too early, I don't think I can, and --. No, you're not listening. This isn't Divorce. This isn't Signore. This is the kids, and this is the Bottom Line -- I'm in charge on this one. Don't think -- do. I will check in at 8:45. Don't let me down. [beat] Look, if it makes you feel better we can get back to our regularly scheduled bitchiness once this is straightened out. For now, just do it my way. Okay. Fine. I'll check in. *Click*
And that's where I will leave it in this post, as an economizing gesture
