Hello! I bet you’re all wondering what’s been going on with my life! Or not … I’m gonna tell you anyway.
I should probably update you with what’s been going on with Bear’s health stuff to start with.
We had an at-home assessment, which added more questions rather than providing answers. I’m not really sure what I expected but we were referred from there — some heart tests, brain tests, blood tests, and some others that I wasn’t sure of. I actually thought the assessment itself went quite well, and the two people that were here were really positive. After the weekend, however, things took a different turn. Those people that saw us at home then went to see their person-in-charge, and we definitely needed to look further into the fact that my poor Bear could have something dementia-y. A whole bunch of other tests were then scheduled and now I’m having a hard time remembering everything. (LOL!) I’m honestly not sure where I’d be without my phone. I guess this is life now? I’d best get used to it. I have absolutely no intention of walking away.
The good news: He DOES NOT have dementia.
The bad news: We need a brand new mental health assessment. It’s starting to look more and more like schizophrenia wasn’t the right diagnosis. On top of this, Bear had been prescribed a certain cholesterol drug by his doctor that he apparently should not have been prescribed.
Things have actually gotten better between Bear and I. We’re still fighting from time to time, but we’re holding it together pretty well. We’re having much more sex than we had before too, although Bear seems to be struggling a tad. We had a few deflated moments and then there was the time he couldn’t finish at all. Despite all of that, we’re closer than ever, spending more “quality time” together.
He’s finding his love of art again, with a little help from me. I’ve turned into a right nag. We seem to be in sync again, though, and it’s lovely. There are a few events coming up that we’re super excited for, and Bear’s Son is going away with family for a few days. Don’t get me wrong … I love the kid, but he’s a real pain in the ass sometimes.
He does NOTHING. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He wakes up. He sometimes makes himself cereal, unless he needs to wash a bowl up first or put any more thought into it. If he does, he just walks away and waits for one of us to bring up the conversation of breakfast instead, and then ends up making it for him.
Lunchtime is just as bad. Between breakfast and lunch, we barely see him. That’s if he even gets up before 12/1 pm. Lunchtimes though … they’re starting to get to me. He’ll make a sandwich, but only if there’s Nutella or jam. If he’s gotta start gettin’ complicated with slices of ham and stuff, he can’t do it. And then he doesn’t put butter on (regardless of sandwich filler) because he just can’t be bothered. He says he likes it that way, but I honestly think it’s down to sheer laziness.
Yesterday was hilarious. He got out of bed somewhere around noon and decided to have a bowl of cereal. I’d done all the dishes from the night before by the time he’d finished with his bowl, so I asked him to wash it up. It was the last thing that needed doing and the water and suds were still in the bowl.
What does he do? He turns the tap on, sloshes some water around in the bowl, flicks the spoon about, and then puts it all on the draining board. There was a bit of cornflake still stuck to the inside of the bowl.
We then had to go through the rigamarole of me trying to teach him how to wash dishes like a normal human being.
He’s not thick. He’s not thick by ANY stretch of the imagination. In fact, he’s quite the opposite. He’s calculated. He’ll pretend he doesn’t know how to do something in the hope that we’ll just take over and tell him not to bother, and the infuriating thing is, Bear just does it for him every time. I know why. It’s because the kid makes EVERY action so painfully slow and difficult that Bear just can’t watch him. Trying to watch the kid make a sandwich is the most stressful thing I’ve ever had to sit through.
I do love him. I do. I need to remind myself of that sometimes. I also need to remember what I was like at his age – 15. But I was nothing like what he’s like; I was so independent. He’s only a couple of months away from 16 and can’t do anything, but within 3 weeks of being 16 *I’d* gotten myself a job. Within 6 months of being 16, I’d moved out and was paying rent. I was at school full-time, 9:00 am to 3:30 pm. I left school, got two buses to work – 5:00 pm to 10:00 pm. Then I went home, did any homework or coursework I had to do, before getting up at 5:30 am to get ready for school again because I had to get three buses to school. It took about an hour.
I did that for a year and a half. If you were to put Bear’s Son at 16 next to me at 16, the two would be WORLDS apart. This kid can’t even work a toaster.
I find him so utterly impossible sometimes. He’s very awkward. I’m trying really hard to engage with him, bring him out of his shell, but every time we seem to get somewhere we have this period of stupid teenagerness where he goes right back to being a little dick again. He argues back with Bear constantly. He refuses to do anything to help us. He won’t tidy his room. He won’t bring his laundry out. He won’t wash up a bowl after himself. He won’t go to the shop for us. He won’t do anything. When we don’t do ONE little thing for him though, it’s like we’ve been neglecting him for years. We get the silent treatment. Slamming doors. Huffing around the house. You know, making damn sure we know that he’s pissed off.
“Oh, you wonder why I never want to spend any time with you. It’s because you treat me like this.”
Like this? Like what? Like you’re 15 years old, thinking you’re an adult, but with absolutely no fucking clue about real life?
Anyway, sorry for the rant. I had to say it though. I can’t say it to Bear. That’s his son. I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to slag his son off to his face. If I said it all to the kid he’d just look at me with a dumb, uninterested look. Seriously, sometimes he looks at me like I’m a fucking moron.
Playing step-mommy is actually tough as balls. Things were going so well between us too.
Anyway, just an update. I’m still the wicked stepmother, although we did manage to pull through the last period, and I’m starting to realise just how much hard work a teenager is to live with.