I know you are, but what am I?

there's nothing quite like being backed into a corner by some one 1/3 your age.

j has, whether he knows it or not, stumbled upon all of my issues, and happily pushes all buttons he encounters, presumably just to see what'll happen.

or, at least, that's what it feels like.

it took him a while to find them (these issues of mine), i am pretty easy-going after all, and so there was a brief honeymoon period where i actually harboured illusions that i could masterfully handle this ten-year-old who has, in the past, reduced every single one of my sweetheart's exes to tears.

see, this is the thing: i'm a bright, feminist, young woman with a great sense of humour who can cook really well.

that's just who i am, dammit.

i'm serious, i am!

i am so!

i am!

in confined quarters, there's only so much criticism of her cooking and her (and all women's) mental acuity, that such a gal can stand before she loses all dignity and is reduced to the level of some petulant ten year old herself. it's enough to make one wonder why we ever stopped beating our children.

ha ha.

(ahem.)

*sigh*

but i mean, really -- what recourse do i actually have? there is no other position or career that is more thankless, or more disempowering, than being a relentlessly hassled (step)parent. none of the normal avenues for dealing (avoidance, passive-aggressive backstabbing, fist-fighting, public humiliation, lodging a complaint with the manager, sabotage etc.) are viable options. so, what does a person, who wants to model conscientious, considerate, broadminded behaviour, *do* in the face of the opposite? have frank, open-hearted, compassionate confrontation every second of every freakin' day?? jeeze.