And there are.
Even in my blissed-out state of mind, kid issues continue to be, well, kid issues at my house. Interestingly, I’m finding these particular ones will not be overcome with sheer force of will, my usual method of solving such things.
Not that I’m bragging about that, just bowing my head to Truth.
We were cautioned that blending a family only looks delightful and hilarious in the movies. Disney movies. They were right. It’s a lot of work and overtime on some days.
Take two parents rearing three teens and that’s all I need to say. Certain people did not get the memo that said, “There shall be a moratorium on squabbles, defiance and other drama while your newly-joined-parent-people move through a dream-like state of being.”
Both Camo Man and I are throwing our all into the joint venture, but our “all” have different flavors for now, since these are recently-opened cans. His “tomato” sauce is my “tomahtoh” sauce, if you know what I mean. On some days we’ve mixed up a parenting goulash, and I’m not really a casserole kind of gal.
In the meantime, there really are “days like this.”