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I've always been a firm believer in the "my house, my rules" policy. I think that it's important to be respectful of someone's rules when you step into their home. There are exceptions, of course. Abuse in any form is never ok. And children, especially young children, come with their own set of rules all together. 

It's been 2 months since I moved in with my parents while my husband is away at officer training school. For the most part, we get along but there is one area we continue to butt heads on. 

My son.

There are a lot of things that factor in when it comes to the way I operate as a parent. I'm a first time mom and this is my first time watching my son fulltime. I used to work nights as a front desk clerk. I would watch my son in the mornings until 2 when my husband would get home from work and take over. Then I'd go to work until 8, sometimes as late as 9, and my husband would make sure our son had dinner, brushed his teeth, had plenty of time to play and was in bed at a certain time every night. We had a routine. It wasn't all that strict. We just tried to keep the important things like meals, nap times, and bedtime consistent. It didn't always mean we got a full night's rest and there were plenty of times I pulled all-nighters so my husband would be wide awake for work the next morning. But our routine meant stability to our son. He knew what time daddy would be home. He knew what time mommy left for work. He knew when he would be fed and he slept through most nights knowing mommy and daddy would be there if he needed a diaper change or a drink. 

Ever since we moved into my parent's house, we have no routine. My parents believe that it's best to let my son wake up and fall asleep on his own, whenever and for however long he wants to. They don't change his diapers. They don't give him baths. Yet they backseat parent and snap at me when I don't do things their way. My son has not once gone to bed before midnight since we moved in and he often wakes in the middle of the night, crying out for daddy.

It's frustrating to live here because I was abused in this house and to some extent, I'm still being abused. I still get yelled at for trying to do what's only natural: looking out for my son's needs. 

There's only two weeks left till we leave for my husband's graduation. Two weeks to endure before we can get ourselves back on track. Two weeks of being snapped at for not letting my stepdad give my son marshmallows at 10pm. Two weeks of being sneered at and mocked because I excluded them from my plans for this 13 hour trip. I'm an adult, a parent, and I'm being treated like I'm a child acting out for attention. 

Let's just say I'm counting down the minutes till I have my life, my family, and my peace back. 



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