Busy Week

This past week was busy busy busy!  The end of the school year tends to be a bit hectic, and with three kids in three different schools, we're attending an unusually high number of concerts and programs to wrap up the year.  However, this helps Jesse and me get ready for a busy summer.  My youngest step-son is participating in the summer soccer program, which will occupy every Tuesday and Thursday night for the entire summer.

I'm so glad he's participating in a sport this summer - the kid's got massive amounts of energy, and soccer is a fantastic way for him to run some of it off.  However, Jesse and I end up doing all the running for the entire season - during our custodial weeks and the bio-mom's custodial weeks.  Some days, I just feel like whining about it.  Why can't SHE do HER part?  She hasn't ever seen one of his soccer games, and this will be the third summer he's participated in the program.  Not once has she brought him to a practice, a game, or even stopped by to cheer on her son as he plays.  I'm sorry, but I can't see how this is acceptable.  I'm pretty sure the point of being a "stay-at-home" mom is so you can treasure the moments you have with your children and enjoy the time you have with them; not so you can stay home and play video games.

Anyway, there are some days when it really gets to me.  It makes absolutely no sense.  This week, it's the bio-mom's custodial week with the children, and yet my husband and I are taking two nights out of our week; one for my step-daughter's band concert ('cause the bio-mom is not going to attend), and once for my youngest step-son's school picnic ('cause if he wants to attend, he'll "need to have his dad bring him").  Yet, even though she refuses to take part in their lives and support her children, she has the audacity to claim it is inappropriate for me to do so.  The bio-mom repeatedly states that I am not welcome at parent-teacher conferences, medical visits, etc.., but when it comes down to the work we put into the children, I am expected to pull my weight AND hers. Something's not right in all of that.

But, in a few short years, the kids won't be "kids" anymore, and we won't have the opportunity to share in their lives; to cheer them in victory and to help lift them up after failures.  I missed the first years of their lives, and I'll be darned if I will miss out on the few years I get with them as "children".