The Toxic Housewife

  #AwkwardFamilyPhotos Truly the hardest part of becoming a stepmom was figuring out my place in the relationship .  Not only was I trying to find out who I was as Bee's new girlfriend . . . then fiancee . . . then bride . . . but I had the added task of establishing myself in a 9 year-old's life when this 9 year-old didn't really need me in his life.  And I am the type of person who needs to be needed.

Last Friday was Bee's birthday.  I hope this next year will be better, because this last year was kind of crappy for him.  All the stress he's had has caused him to grind his teeth, get some some sort of ear infection, and now have that infection travel down to his throat.  Since he is very much a victim of Man Colds , it's been a little hard around here.

olive and cream cheese penguins (with a cheese ball igloo, of course) OK, if you thought I was bad, may I just point out that I've never had any desire to make the above concoction for a party.  Can you imagine how long I would be in the kitchen, obsessively cutting olives in half and stuffing them with cream cheese, in order to have enough penguins for 50 people to have a bite?  No thank you! But, in case you want the recipe, I found one here .

Ohh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah: I’m an over-achieving braggart. Got a problem with that? Oh.  Well, then, you'd better not read this blog.

OK, I didn't make these; but aren't they adorable? These were at the Halloween party Mr. C and I crashed today.

(photo by S.B.) Wednesday was Bee’s birthday. We spent the week celebrating. You must remember that my version of ‘celebrating’ is ‘eating’. On Monday, we had The Four Families over for dinner. That is the new name I came up with for our in-town ‘relatives’, the ex-in-laws-by-marriage . I love the Mafiosa ring to the name, and have therefore been slipping it into random conversations all week. Although amused, none of the other members of The Four Families seem to be as impressed with my awesomeness as I am.

S.B.'s mom, Dee, and I have been taking a cake-decorating class together.  We're primarily using fondant and gum paste to make flowers and other frilly objects.  Since I am: 1) Lazy (and therefore highly unlikely to spend time decorating a cake unless it's for someone's birthday) and 2) the sole X chromosome in a home filled with Ys (who will most likely be unappreciative of a birthday cake topped with pink sugar carnations) -- I am highly unlikely to ever use these flower-making skills again outside of class.

(November 2006) My Thanksgiving this year will be another Sick And Twisted affair. That’s what I call those occasions where I do loving family-type things with those family members not related to me. These people aren’t even related to my husband. They are related to my husband’s ex-wife. How sick is that? 

(April 2007) I was never the type of girl who dreamed of a fantasy marriage. I suppose when I was younger and was truly a girly-girl, I had some idea in my mind of a Barbie doll-type, Cinderella-esque match made in heaven. I hoped for a He-Man prince to sweep me off my feet, but never quite knew what that involved. All I knew was that I’d better be prepared with a rather poofy dress so there was never any danger of my Rainbow Brite underwear showing when the sweeping took place. As I grew older, I shed all those mincing girl fantasies and concentrated instead on the type of man I felt I could partner with for life. My husband would have to be funny, of course, and he’d have to enjoy doing the taxes, the ironing, and the cooking, since I hated all three. It wouldn’t hurt if he were rich, either. But the most important thing about our marriage, I decided at fifteen, was that we’d be partners: he’d wash, I’d dry; he’d sweep, I’d vacuum; he’d clean the car, I’d fold the clothes; he’d buy t...