Gripe

I'm going to gripe a little bit.

My stepson drives me crazy. I love him, I truly truly do. But he's going to drive me round the bend. The child can't hold a conversation in his head. Here's an example of a too-typical conversation with him:
"Where are we going?"
"Quiznos, to get Daddy a sandwich for lunch."
"Oh, what's a Quiz-Moe?"
"Quiznos. It's a restaurant where you can go to get really yummy sandwiches."
"Does Daddy like Quiz-Moe?"
"Quiznos. Yes, that's why we're going there."
"Is it his favorite?"
"Well, he really really likes it."
"Favorite in the whole world?"
"No, honey, but he really really likes it."
"Is this a Quiz-Moe?" (He asks as we're stopped at a red light with traffic on both sides. Situational awareness must set in later.)
"No, we're stopped at a light. Quiznos is a restaurant. We're going there. We'll be there in a minute."
"What are we getting there?"
"Try to remember, we were just talking about it."
"Oh right right right, to get Daddy a snack."
"To get Daddy lunch."
"Oh. What is he getting for lunch?"
"A sandwich. From Quiznos."
"What's Quiz-Moe?"

But you have to understand. Every conversation is this way. He has a more extensive vocabulary than his 8 year old sister. He can detect by smell and name most ingredients in any sauce or dish that you put in front of him. He is a very smart child. But he cannot hold a conversation in his head.

We had just been at the grocery store, talking all about what we're making for dinner tonight. He helped decide on which vegetable to get (Fresh-ish Snap Peas), and whether we would have rice or potatoes. We walk out the front door of the market, he takes ten steps, and turns to me and says, "What's for dinner?"

Another fun game, instead of running conversational laps around my sanity, is the nearly-infinite-regress. Where he asks for the definition of a word or phrase he's never heard before. You define it. He asks for the definition of the definition. So you define that. He wants definition of that too. Pretty soon, he's asking, "What's a sock?" Or, "what's a car?" The child gets going full steam ahead in his questions and forgets to think.

All to say, my patience only lasts for about 3 hours of this before I start getting snappy. And it's such a shame, because I really wish we could have a fun positive day together without me wanting to bash my head against a brick wall. Sometimes, I just tell him to stop. That the conversation is over. Like with the Quizno's thing. Other times, I tell him to think about the last question he asked (eg "What's a sock?") and try to come up with an answer. Other times, like when he asks, "Are we at sissy's school?" in the middle of the highway, I'll have him look out the window and tell me where we are and what we're passing. I also think that I should take a more active role in the conversations. I should ask him questions. I could steer his questions to something not banal.

But there are other times when it's all I can do to not just yell, "Shut up!" I don't. But there are times I'd really really like to.

He's just exhausting. It's like being elbowed in the side every 10 seconds for 3 hours. Eventually you get sore and crabby.

Additionally, he seems to believe that he gets to render edicts in our house. He'll walk into the kitchen and say, "I'll have ham, pepperoni, cheese, yogurt, carrots with ranch dressing, apples, oranges, and strawberries, with white cranberry peach juice and some cookies." And then walk away like, "Hey, the order's in. I'm just gonna go wait for the *ding*." Another thing coming to you Shorty. First, he's got good taste. He likes healthy foods. So I compliment him on that. But then I tell him that he does not get to dictate to me what he will be eating. He and I will converse about it and decide what would be best for him. And then I tell him to leave the room, and come back and try again. Politely this time. Like I'm his stepmom and we love each other. And we will together fix him something to eat.

I'm plumb worn out.

And don't, under any circumstances, say to me, "And you want to have a baby?" Because I will punch you. Because I do. And I want the two stepkids I have. I just needed to gripe.