Pillow Talk

I had a long-winded post about genetic engineering all ready to go, but I think I'll hold off on that one. It needs some...ermmm...radical re-tooling.

The Boyfriend has two daughters. They lived part-time with us until just under a year ago when the elder (now 18) picked up and moved without any to-do to her mother's full time. The younger (now 15) soon followed. Not a bad plan, really. It's hard to split your time between two fairly different households, and overall, they usually get along better with their mum, anyway.

The younger has moved back, on the 'suggestion' of her beleaguered mother who was butting heads with the teen over her reluctance to go to school on a regular basis. She seems to have a problem with how hard school is and would rather just stay home and sleep when it stresses her out. This is a habit going all the way back to kindergarten, and it was not exactly discouraged by her then stay-at-home mum.

This moving back in with us has now stressed ME out. I'll state it bald and plain: she's bloody hard to live with. Yeah, yeah. I know. What teenager isn't? However, she's not MY daughter, and, had she been, I suspect she would have lived with slightly different expectations. The gap between what is and what I feel (or wish) should (would) be is what makes me crazy. I struggle to be positive and zen. My expectations need to be relinquished. I know that. But I have a hard time accepting and acting on that reality. £%^*(&_)&&%$@!!!!!!

I am straining not to go on a rant/vitriolic diatribe about this. I guess I have to retreat into, "If you don't have anything good to say, scream into your pillow instead." Consider this my cyber-pillow.