The Amazing Adventures of Alpha Girl and Beta Boy
Let me preface the tale below by saying that when my ex and I separated, he was emphatic in stating that if we did split up, he would not parent any differently than we had been doing together. He would make sure that E ate his veggies, got to bed on time, etc. Bulls**t. When E and I go to the supermarket together, he works the two household angle as best he can. (Wouldn't you?) E asks for Cheetos because "I eat them at Daddy's." Or soda, "Daddy lets me drink it sometimes."
No, no and no. Sorry, love — not in my house. I think he's pretty clear where I stand on those things; however the "but dad…" excuse tends to rear its ugly head from time to time.
It frustrated me much more a couple of years ago. I was doing everything I could to keep a sense of normalcy in our family and here was my kid — usually a whole-wheat waffle and veggie sausage breakfast eater — now waking up to Cocoa Krispies. Oh well, at least I don't have to deal with the post-sugar meltdown two hours later. (Did I mention that he never seems to have those at his father's?)
E is an early riser — like his momma — so his bedtime is on the early side too. Not at his dad's. When I call to say goodnight at 7:30, the time he should be getting ready for bed, and ask, "What did you have for dinner?", he hasn't even eaten yet. Nope. He should be in his pajamas but, instead, he is about to sit down to dinner and a movie.
I know, I know. Two different homes, two different lifestyles. It's just that the life that E lives with me is the life he has had for seven years. Minus, of course, a father figure (ahem). On the other hand, at his dad's it's a whole different ball game. A Wii, soda with lunch, an iPod, staying up late. I realize that it's not a competition but when your ex is gunning for "cool dad" status, broccoli and frequent baths don't seem like much fun.
If worse comes to worse and I get frustrated with my role as bad cop (although I really am not), I hearken back to this memory from a couple of years ago.
E and I were walking home from school and he sprung this zinger on me:
"I like Daddy's house better."
(Don't lose your temper, don't lose your temper.) "Why is that, baby?"
"Because it's bigger and I have more toys. Daddy also got me a couch that has rocket ships on it."
"Perhaps because your father is trying to buy your love." (Okay — I actually refrained from saying that.)
Instead, I took the mature approach, "Well, let's see, you have two homes so let's try to name three things that you like in each one."
"I don't have two homes. This is my home. I just visit Daddy."
"Honey, would you like a cookie for snack today?"
I know that it's not how you win or lose, but how you play the game. But when you play the game fair and square, it sometimes feels damn good to win.
Author: Stacey Linden
