I know this is a space for venting, but I want to set aside a post or two for gushing -- something I can refer back to when BF's kid drives me nuts or I start thinking to myself that this whole step situation isn't worth it.

We had a great weekend at the botanical gardens a couple weeks back. It was my idea to go and to take the kid without inviting her grandmother or any other "interference." According to BF, she's been "a completely different kid lately" between wild tantrums and new behavior, so he was both frustrated with her and also anxious about how she'd react to me. Sure enough, we had a lot of tears, screaming, and once biting incident -- but we also had a really good time together. I told her in the gardens that she got a point every time she spotted a pink flower, I got one every time we saw a purple flower, and Dad got points for yellow flowers. I also gave her the map and told her to pick our paths whenever they branched. She loved it -- took off like a shot and kept yelling for us to hurry up because "We need more points!"

Later on, I worked with her on some table manners at Olive Garden -- don't talk to the waitress like she's a slave, no yelling, always go to the bathroom before meal time (but after ordering) so that you can wash your hands and jinx the food into showing up faster. I also laid down the law on dessert -- if you're "too full" to eat half your meal, you are by definition "too full" for ice cream. End of story, end of whining. I also taught Dad the concept of "shut up to win" -- her way is to beg, wheedle, and negotiate; so if you don't give her a single sound or word to work with, she eventually runs out of ways to get what she wants.

This worked again the next morning when I found myself babysitting for a while when Dad woke up with a fever and waited for the Tylenol to kick in. We were watching a movie and she spilled her juice. I'm the kind of caretaker who doesn't mind messes -- as long as the guilty party cleans them up. When she got distracted during this task, I shut off the movie. She started to cry, I gave her my stonewall look and she took herself straight to timeout to cry it off for 20 minutes. Smart kid.

The rest of the day, she wanted to sit in my lap instead of her dad's, play with my hair instead of with his iPhone, and watch whatever movies I thought were cool (instead of insisting on her own). We had a pretty good time and she's never normally that touchy-feely with me. I'm new enough to this step situation to be flattered at the attention.

The best part, though, was sharing Mortal Kombat with her while baking cupcakes. The second the fight music came on and Sonya Blade fights Kano, she ran up to the TV and started trying to punch and kick. So cute! I showed her some basic kid martial arts move (horse stance, chambering, snap kicks to a pillow). For the rest of the night, she wanted to play ninja instead of princess. Thank God -- I'm so not into princess.

Yes, there were rough patches that weekend -- like when she spiked a fever and would not stop rage-crying about EVERYTHING ("I don't need a towel in my room!" "Don't touch my lamp!" "The floor is wet!" --from where she spilled the juice, "Don't close the door!" --funny, because she's the one who slammed it shut). But I'm going to keep revisiting the ninja parts, the lap-sitting, and the sight of her racing through the gardens, looking for "points." I'll try so hard to hang onto those thoughts when she's screaming about stupid things, telling me how much she loves her mom, or otherwise driving me crazy like only an s-kid (or s-kid to be) can.