June 3rd, 2018
Once again, I am asking myself, "What am I rushing for?". I set my alarm early with the intent of restarting a book on homemaking(I started it earlier this year and realized actually enforcing it wasn't going to happen so I put it down). I brewed a pot of coffee, put one load of laundry in the dryer, another in the washer, made my cup of coffee, grabbed the book and companion journal, flipped to the beginning, sat down, and...four pages and an almost empty coffee cup later, my heart racing, I looked at the time.
It was only 15 minutes later!
I also noticed last night I could take my time brushing my teeth. I quickly went through the motions as I was used to doing. For the past two years, I'm ashamed to admit, there were days I'd forget to brush at all(too busy instructing stepkids to brush/rebrush/re-rebrush/re-re-rebrush/re-re-re-for-the-love-of-God-rebrush their teeth), or that I'd wait until mine were uncomfortably dirty before finally offering my own some baking soda, fluoridated relief.
And even then, after harping and nagging two kids to do it so much, I would be too rushed/tired to give mine full attention. So, instead, I'd do what I was trying(and failing) to instruct them not to do- brush until they felt not as bad and keep going.
Last night, I spent five minutes really paying attention to the experience and evaluating the feel of each tooth. Did it feel clean- actually clean? Not just clean-ish?
(I know this sounds borderline OCD, but trust me- I'm not.)
So far, this is becoming the hardest part of my journey...forcing myself to slow down. Trying to remember rhythm not rushed routine. Savoring the little housewife/womanly things. Being in the moment instead of being in the last 5 moments while trying to get ready for the next 7 moments. I never fully realized this was even a problem until they left.
Funny how distance makes you aware of these things.
Monday, July 30, 2018
StepMom Undone, Day 6
May 31st. 2018
I went into my bathroom and the scent of actual soap greeted me! Not funky clothing, or urine smell, or "I just pretended to bathe but all I did was splash water on myself" smell- actual soap smell!!
Also, my house is actually staying clean!
Do you know how happy this makes me?!
I'm not sure if it was their special needs, rebellion towards me, or what- but I taught them over the course of multiple weeks and printed/laminated charts on how to take care of their personal hygiene properly- they still
would come out appearing wet but not actually smelling clean. My house reeked of their body odors to the point that no sooner did I clean and get rid of the smell, it'd be back as soon as they came back into the house.
Please Note-
For anyone who says "why didn't YOU just wash them?"...these kids were 10 and 7 when we had custody of them full-time. Even after 2 years, I never felt comfortable fully bathing children-mine or otherwise- past the age of 4 or 5. I understand kids just learning may not always bathe to an adult's standard, but to me, by 7 a kid should, for the most part, have it down(unless they have long hair or something). Despite me trying, these kids couldn't and sometimes would proudly proclaim they wouldn't wash correctly. They had no physical disability preventing them from bathing properly, and despite trying very hard(and being human and failing at it) to be patient about it, I did often lose my cool about it to no avail.
I went into my bathroom and the scent of actual soap greeted me! Not funky clothing, or urine smell, or "I just pretended to bathe but all I did was splash water on myself" smell- actual soap smell!!
Also, my house is actually staying clean!
Do you know how happy this makes me?!
I'm not sure if it was their special needs, rebellion towards me, or what- but I taught them over the course of multiple weeks and printed/laminated charts on how to take care of their personal hygiene properly- they still
would come out appearing wet but not actually smelling clean. My house reeked of their body odors to the point that no sooner did I clean and get rid of the smell, it'd be back as soon as they came back into the house.
Please Note-
For anyone who says "why didn't YOU just wash them?"...these kids were 10 and 7 when we had custody of them full-time. Even after 2 years, I never felt comfortable fully bathing children-mine or otherwise- past the age of 4 or 5. I understand kids just learning may not always bathe to an adult's standard, but to me, by 7 a kid should, for the most part, have it down(unless they have long hair or something). Despite me trying, these kids couldn't and sometimes would proudly proclaim they wouldn't wash correctly. They had no physical disability preventing them from bathing properly, and despite trying very hard(and being human and failing at it) to be patient about it, I did often lose my cool about it to no avail.
Thursday, July 26, 2018
StepMom Undone, Day 5
May 30th, 2018
Today, the first thing that I felt I needed to write about was the word "hurry". After two years with two special needs undiagnosed children, "hurry" has been a frequent visitor to my vocabulary. The children were used to swinging from one chaos to the next, with adults only notifying them when it became obvious that things were changing.
When they moved here, that mentality and overall atmosphere/energy came with them. I never realized how rhythmic and yet predictable my family's days were until these two children came in.
We tried to give them routine, predictability...but at the expense of "hurry!" constantly coming out of my mouth.
Because they didn't receive coping skills via various therapies( or at least, the start of them) up until they came to live with us. it felt like a constant battle to get them to do the most basic things in a timely manner. When it came to appointments to be made, "hurry, hurry, hurry!" was always on my heart.
The past few days, my heart and body have felt in limbo. You can't switch off two years of "hurry!" like you do a light bulb. As a result, I'm finding myself saying out loud "SLOW DOWN!" and "What am I rushing for?!?". I have forgotten what it's like to wake up without my phone screaming at me to do so, without panicking that I didn't tell the stepkids to do XYZ yesterday which will mean we'll be behind on something today, without feeling like adrenaline is the first chemical to greet my bloodstream.
I'm no longer seeing my home as a jail sentence anymore, either. My children vocally made it known before they preferred to stay home during times when the stepkids would not be here. In my frantic state, I'd let them. It wasn't until they left, I found myself doing the same- just wanting to be home.
It's not because we're lazy- we're not. It's just...until the stepkids came, our home was our safe haven. The world wasn't always kind, but home...home was our place, our comfort, our loving kindness.
Yes, we go out, but doing so always meant doing something, and when the stepkids were here, "doing" was all day, every day. From the time they got up until their bodies forced them to sleep, they were "doing, going, talking, moving" without a pause. They were also right in my kid's face all the time, and my kids just needed moments to NOT do- and they weren't getting many. As a result, any time they had a chance to be in the loveliest of places, where quiet could be heard, and expectations to not do...they took it.
I would come home to a silent house and kids smiling- until the stepkids followed behind me. Then the smiles would leave their eyes, a fake "plastic" smile(if you've ever worked in customer service, you know what kind I'm referring to) put on, and a shrinking inside that only a mother can see. A shrinking inside I knew too well.
It's funny, really...I've been on support pages for stepmoms and the ones who felt like they have their crap together always tell us who feel as though we don't the same thing- don't let your stepkids/their biological mother interfere with your marriage/home/etc. If you don't let them rule your life, then they have no power to ruin your day/life/year/etc.
However...I'm a firm believer God put a...chemical? desire? hormone? urge? in all women to want to nurture anything that needs it. You don't see as many crazy cat men as you do women, right? Stepmoms see hurting children and feel an overwhelming urge to nurture them. To help kids that aren't theirs. Sometimes we know exactly what we're getting into; most times, we don't. We assume the best and give our best. But when the biological mother is dripping with chaos and toxicity(for whatever reasons), the stepchildren see you as a servant and not a parental figure; when court dates and orders are thrown in your face, and the man you married becomes a totally different person...you don't see that until you're chin deep in trying to bring some healthy, some nurture, some kind of expression of love and normalcy...into these kids. Kids that swing between "I want this," and "I want to go back with mom. I don't want to live here anymore."
I don't want anyone to dare think I don't love these kids. While I may be the first to admit I don't always like them(to be fair I don't always like anyone, all the time- they are no exception), I do love them deeply. I'm in no way trying to bad mouth/make fun/mock them, or their biological mother.
So why do I write these posts?
Because I want to tear down the stereotypes and stigma behind stepmother. I want stepmoms to know it's totally okay to feel these things. I want need a place to let out years of mental and emotional damage that came directly from me being a full-time caregiver to children that weren't mine and didn't always want the help.
I don't understand how society will tell us, applaud us, when we walk away from an abusive relationship, but not when we distance ourselves from something almost as close(or worse than)-a toxic co-parenting situation and/or children who want nothing to do with us or use us to hash out all the hurt they experience because of a divorce they had no fault in.
People in abusive relationships will be told they did what was best for them, and people are so quick to give them help if they ask(as they should!). However, when it comes to stepmothering, we are disgraced for feeling anything less than "The Brady Bunch". We are told we are bad or wrong if things don't work out in the dynamic of a blended family. We have little resources and, unless we know another woman going through it, no advice is a blanket solution to our problems.
I didn't expect to have a high conflict woman involved in my everyday affairs. I didn't expect special needs children that weren't given any type of help/aid/therapy and were behind in several areas when we got them. I didn't know people could smile and seem perfectly sane one minute and be a total monster, neglecting their own flesh and blood the next.
I was told to "treat them like they're your own and you won't have any problems.", "as long as you put what's best for the children first, they'll thrive and you can co-parent peacefully!", and "these kids have been through a lot, so treat them with kid gloves."
Being a stepmom in a toxic co-parenting situation is a few steps shy(in my instance, in others it IS a full-on) an abusive relationship. You have someone dictating your every move. You can't plan an event without being made to feel horrible for doing or even thinking about it. You have someone constantly stalking you/your spouse on social media( or in real life). You have no free speech, as you have to watch and over analyze every single word, lest the stepkids report it back to their mother in hopes she can use it against your husband in court. Or someone else relays it back to their mother, fanning her flames of bitterness and resentment for your very existence in her children's/ex-husband's life.
When you crave time away from it all, you're made to be guilted for it, because "You signed up for this when you married a man with kids!". Sometimes, in some instances, the kids are truly crappy because of the blow life has dealt them but you can NEVER call them out on it because there will be others ready to tear you apart limb from limb for saying so. In some instances, there are even physical altercations between a stepmom and a biological mom/stepchildren(and I only wish I was kidding).
But we are made to feel bad. We are told it's our fault if we aren't getting the Brady Bunch scenario in our own homes.
Excuse my language, but...that is total and absolute bullshit.
That's why I'm writing these posts.
Because after two years of trying, I'm coming undone.
I have to undo everything that's happened, every emotion felt, every panicked thought that's crossed my mind, every word said.
I have to undo my stepmothering, so I can remember what NOT being a stepmom first and foremost feels like. And I need other stepmoms to know they're doing the same it's okay.
Until Next Time,
~Mama Jenn
Today, the first thing that I felt I needed to write about was the word "hurry". After two years with two special needs undiagnosed children, "hurry" has been a frequent visitor to my vocabulary. The children were used to swinging from one chaos to the next, with adults only notifying them when it became obvious that things were changing.
When they moved here, that mentality and overall atmosphere/energy came with them. I never realized how rhythmic and yet predictable my family's days were until these two children came in.
We tried to give them routine, predictability...but at the expense of "hurry!" constantly coming out of my mouth.
Because they didn't receive coping skills via various therapies( or at least, the start of them) up until they came to live with us. it felt like a constant battle to get them to do the most basic things in a timely manner. When it came to appointments to be made, "hurry, hurry, hurry!" was always on my heart.
The past few days, my heart and body have felt in limbo. You can't switch off two years of "hurry!" like you do a light bulb. As a result, I'm finding myself saying out loud "SLOW DOWN!" and "What am I rushing for?!?". I have forgotten what it's like to wake up without my phone screaming at me to do so, without panicking that I didn't tell the stepkids to do XYZ yesterday which will mean we'll be behind on something today, without feeling like adrenaline is the first chemical to greet my bloodstream.
I'm no longer seeing my home as a jail sentence anymore, either. My children vocally made it known before they preferred to stay home during times when the stepkids would not be here. In my frantic state, I'd let them. It wasn't until they left, I found myself doing the same- just wanting to be home.
It's not because we're lazy- we're not. It's just...until the stepkids came, our home was our safe haven. The world wasn't always kind, but home...home was our place, our comfort, our loving kindness.
Yes, we go out, but doing so always meant doing something, and when the stepkids were here, "doing" was all day, every day. From the time they got up until their bodies forced them to sleep, they were "doing, going, talking, moving" without a pause. They were also right in my kid's face all the time, and my kids just needed moments to NOT do- and they weren't getting many. As a result, any time they had a chance to be in the loveliest of places, where quiet could be heard, and expectations to not do...they took it.
I would come home to a silent house and kids smiling- until the stepkids followed behind me. Then the smiles would leave their eyes, a fake "plastic" smile(if you've ever worked in customer service, you know what kind I'm referring to) put on, and a shrinking inside that only a mother can see. A shrinking inside I knew too well.
It's funny, really...I've been on support pages for stepmoms and the ones who felt like they have their crap together always tell us who feel as though we don't the same thing- don't let your stepkids/their biological mother interfere with your marriage/home/etc. If you don't let them rule your life, then they have no power to ruin your day/life/year/etc.
However...I'm a firm believer God put a...chemical? desire? hormone? urge? in all women to want to nurture anything that needs it. You don't see as many crazy cat men as you do women, right? Stepmoms see hurting children and feel an overwhelming urge to nurture them. To help kids that aren't theirs. Sometimes we know exactly what we're getting into; most times, we don't. We assume the best and give our best. But when the biological mother is dripping with chaos and toxicity(for whatever reasons), the stepchildren see you as a servant and not a parental figure; when court dates and orders are thrown in your face, and the man you married becomes a totally different person...you don't see that until you're chin deep in trying to bring some healthy, some nurture, some kind of expression of love and normalcy...into these kids. Kids that swing between "I want this," and "I want to go back with mom. I don't want to live here anymore."
I don't want anyone to dare think I don't love these kids. While I may be the first to admit I don't always like them(to be fair I don't always like anyone, all the time- they are no exception), I do love them deeply. I'm in no way trying to bad mouth/make fun/mock them, or their biological mother.
So why do I write these posts?
Because I want to tear down the stereotypes and stigma behind stepmother. I want stepmoms to know it's totally okay to feel these things. I
I don't understand how society will tell us, applaud us, when we walk away from an abusive relationship, but not when we distance ourselves from something almost as close(or worse than)-a toxic co-parenting situation and/or children who want nothing to do with us or use us to hash out all the hurt they experience because of a divorce they had no fault in.
People in abusive relationships will be told they did what was best for them, and people are so quick to give them help if they ask(as they should!). However, when it comes to stepmothering, we are disgraced for feeling anything less than "The Brady Bunch". We are told we are bad or wrong if things don't work out in the dynamic of a blended family. We have little resources and, unless we know another woman going through it, no advice is a blanket solution to our problems.
I didn't expect to have a high conflict woman involved in my everyday affairs. I didn't expect special needs children that weren't given any type of help/aid/therapy and were behind in several areas when we got them. I didn't know people could smile and seem perfectly sane one minute and be a total monster, neglecting their own flesh and blood the next.
I was told to "treat them like they're your own and you won't have any problems.", "as long as you put what's best for the children first, they'll thrive and you can co-parent peacefully!", and "these kids have been through a lot, so treat them with kid gloves."
Being a stepmom in a toxic co-parenting situation is a few steps shy(in my instance, in others it IS a full-on) an abusive relationship. You have someone dictating your every move. You can't plan an event without being made to feel horrible for doing or even thinking about it. You have someone constantly stalking you/your spouse on social media( or in real life). You have no free speech, as you have to watch and over analyze every single word, lest the stepkids report it back to their mother in hopes she can use it against your husband in court. Or someone else relays it back to their mother, fanning her flames of bitterness and resentment for your very existence in her children's/ex-husband's life.
When you crave time away from it all, you're made to be guilted for it, because "You signed up for this when you married a man with kids!". Sometimes, in some instances, the kids are truly crappy because of the blow life has dealt them but you can NEVER call them out on it because there will be others ready to tear you apart limb from limb for saying so. In some instances, there are even physical altercations between a stepmom and a biological mom/stepchildren(and I only wish I was kidding).
But we are made to feel bad. We are told it's our fault if we aren't getting the Brady Bunch scenario in our own homes.
Excuse my language, but...that is total and absolute bullshit.
That's why I'm writing these posts.
Because after two years of trying, I'm coming undone.
I have to undo everything that's happened, every emotion felt, every panicked thought that's crossed my mind, every word said.
I have to undo my stepmothering, so I can remember what NOT being a stepmom first and foremost feels like. And I need other stepmoms to know they're doing the same it's okay.
Until Next Time,
~Mama Jenn
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
StepMom Undone, Day 1
Greetings, Chaotics!
I wrote a tiny series of posts on my thoughts and feelings as our family transitioned back from a family of 7 to a family of 5. This is the first entry.
May 25, 2018
Last night was our first night with no stepkids. All day yesterday, I wrestled with emotions. Are we really doing the right thing> Will we have two kid-like adults on our doorstep in 10 more years, manipulating us to let them live here because they can't find a job, can't afford college, and have victim-mentality scars because of all this? Is this a dream or a joke- will they come back at the end of summer and our home will feel like a prison again with three unruly wardens controlling our every move?
But, as the afternoon progressed, my mood shifted as I watched my own children. They kept asking "How much longer?" as though they were little kids with no internal knowledge of when Christmas was.
Except it wasn't a Christmas countdown- it was a countdown for when we'd all be free, and the stepkids would be back with their biological mother. For good.
I kept forgetting how much them(the stepkids) being here took a toll on them(my kids). Lord bless them.
As the time drew closer, I realized my own heart shifting from heavy to light. Happy, joyous songs came to my mind as I packed the stepkids bags. I didn't put their belongings in trash bags like their biological mother and grandmother did. Didn't they know what they conveyed by doing that? Treating them and their things like trash? They AREN'T trash! Despite everything their mother put us through, despite my current, shifting mood...they were still blessings, gifts from God. Maybe not gifts for me, or this household, but...still, gifts nonetheless.
I couldn't afford to buy them nice suitcases like I had wanted to, so I used what we did have- a bunch of Christmas and birthday gift bags I had in storage. On our way to drop them off, someone saw the kind of bags we carried(but unaware of the content), and loudly proclaimed, "Wow! I bet someone's going to feel awful special!!" I hope despite the circumstances, they understand for their seasons here they were, at least some of the time, a gift.
Now, they get to be their mother's gift Lord willing once and for all.
After I dropped them off and went to get celebratory donuts, I couldn't stop sighing deeper than I had in a long time and exhaling with a huge smile. "Ahhhh, we're FREE."
Last night, two things I hadn't thought of were now possible. As we started to get ready for family TV time, my son posed a question.
"Mom?"
"Hmm?"
"So if J and L(Stepkids) aren't here...do we have to go to bed by 9? Since it's summer?"
My mind reeled from that question. For two years, we had two special needs kids that needed a routine, a schedule. They needed 9-10 hours of sleep to catch up from the lack of sleep they got every other weekend going to their (non-routine) biological mother's house.
My kids and I...we don't do routines. We did it for them(the stepkids), but none of us actually thrived on it but the stepkids. We do certain things in a certain order...but in a routine, it's pretty rigid. It's pretty much a set time or else they couldn't move on.
With a rhythm(what my kids and I are used to), it gives the kids a guideline but without the rigid time restraints. And it's grace-filled and very flexible. You start at the top and if you don't finish the daily list, you start where you stopped at the previous day. My kids were raised to do this while ensuring at the least the basic functions were done(eating, bathing, etc.). However, my stepchildren were not. Without set time limits, we found out after many weeks of trying they would wake up, eat one meal, and do nothing on their own.
Anyways...with my son's question, the wheels turned in my head as the realization dawned on me.
"Well...no, I guess we don't have to," I replied after a long pause.
"Can we...watch TWO episodes tonight?" My son asked, his eyes growing wide at the potential.
"Well, crud. I guess I hadn't thought of that, either! I guess so. Why not? As long as you go to your room when we're done. You don't have to go to sleep, but you can have quiet time until you're tired."
Everyone got quiet.
"What?" I asked, freaked out but their uneasy quietness.
"Quiet time." My son said in a dreamy tone. "We can have...quiet."
With two stepchildren that have ADHD, my kids didn't get much quiet in their rooms. The stepchildren would mumble to themselves or talk to my kids even if they asked them not to until their bodies just crashed and went to sleep. My stepson, who shared a room with my son, was especially guilty of this. My son was going to sleep tonight without having my stepsons ramblings be the last thing he heard.
I don't know why, but I wanted to cry at his realization of this. He sounded so blissful...so awed, after two years, that he wouldn't be awake until the stepson's body thrust him and his nonstop mouth to sleep. He could sleep when he(my son) wanted to.
It was a quarter till eleven when we finished both episodes. The kids gave me their hugs and kisses and went to their rooms.
As I climbed into my own bed, I had realization number two. My door was closed and I was wearing pajama pants. I quickly set to change both, stripping off my pants and opening my door wide. I ran to the kids' room, this time with my own Christmas-like wonder.
"Hey, guys!!! You can leave your doors open and take off your pants! J and L aren't here!!!"
Another round of realization silence.
"I'm getting NAKED!!" my son joked.
"OHMYGAWSH, we really can go without pants!!" My oldest exclaimed.
Again...when we got the stepkids, I had to start closing my door. Because my stepson has a pornography addiction from before we received custody, I had to put strict guidelines about devices in place. Everyone returned their devices to my room every night. He had, on several occasions early on, sneak into my room at night if the door was left open and get a device to look at porn. After several times of this happening, I started closing(and then, after him STILL sneaking in, locking) my bedroom door at night. He eventually learned to pick my lock with a butter knife, so I also started propping something(usually a box) against my door. If he opened it, the noise of him tripping over the box would be loud enough to startle me awake.
Now I didn't have to worry about that!!!
The pants....well, it sort of tied into his pornography issue. We didn't want to tempt him with anything by exposing more skin than we had to. I know it's just legs...but still. Also, he and his sister would gawk and make us all feel extremely uncomfortable. Not because they don't practice nudity at their biological mother's house, but....because our skin is a different color. It's not meant to be racist, it was just...different to them. Because they weren't taught to stare, they stared. HARD. It was very awkward and uncomfortable for all four of us. So we just kept our doors closed and our pants on to avoid the whole ordeal.
You know how people say America's one of the freest countries in the world? Well, I've lived here all my life, but....having those three revelations last night, it really dawned on me.
We are truly free.
Until Next Time Chaotics,
~ Mama Jenn
I wrote a tiny series of posts on my thoughts and feelings as our family transitioned back from a family of 7 to a family of 5. This is the first entry.
May 25, 2018
Last night was our first night with no stepkids. All day yesterday, I wrestled with emotions. Are we really doing the right thing> Will we have two kid-like adults on our doorstep in 10 more years, manipulating us to let them live here because they can't find a job, can't afford college, and have victim-mentality scars because of all this? Is this a dream or a joke- will they come back at the end of summer and our home will feel like a prison again with three unruly wardens controlling our every move?
But, as the afternoon progressed, my mood shifted as I watched my own children. They kept asking "How much longer?" as though they were little kids with no internal knowledge of when Christmas was.
Except it wasn't a Christmas countdown- it was a countdown for when we'd all be free, and the stepkids would be back with their biological mother. For good.
I kept forgetting how much them(the stepkids) being here took a toll on them(my kids). Lord bless them.
As the time drew closer, I realized my own heart shifting from heavy to light. Happy, joyous songs came to my mind as I packed the stepkids bags. I didn't put their belongings in trash bags like their biological mother and grandmother did. Didn't they know what they conveyed by doing that? Treating them and their things like trash? They AREN'T trash! Despite everything their mother put us through, despite my current, shifting mood...they were still blessings, gifts from God. Maybe not gifts for me, or this household, but...still, gifts nonetheless.
I couldn't afford to buy them nice suitcases like I had wanted to, so I used what we did have- a bunch of Christmas and birthday gift bags I had in storage. On our way to drop them off, someone saw the kind of bags we carried(but unaware of the content), and loudly proclaimed, "Wow! I bet someone's going to feel awful special!!" I hope despite the circumstances, they understand for their seasons here they were, at least some of the time, a gift.
Now, they get to be their mother's gift Lord willing once and for all.
After I dropped them off and went to get celebratory donuts, I couldn't stop sighing deeper than I had in a long time and exhaling with a huge smile. "Ahhhh, we're FREE."
Last night, two things I hadn't thought of were now possible. As we started to get ready for family TV time, my son posed a question.
"Mom?"
"Hmm?"
"So if J and L(Stepkids) aren't here...do we have to go to bed by 9? Since it's summer?"
My mind reeled from that question. For two years, we had two special needs kids that needed a routine, a schedule. They needed 9-10 hours of sleep to catch up from the lack of sleep they got every other weekend going to their (non-routine) biological mother's house.
My kids and I...we don't do routines. We did it for them(the stepkids), but none of us actually thrived on it but the stepkids. We do certain things in a certain order...but in a routine, it's pretty rigid. It's pretty much a set time or else they couldn't move on.
With a rhythm(what my kids and I are used to), it gives the kids a guideline but without the rigid time restraints. And it's grace-filled and very flexible. You start at the top and if you don't finish the daily list, you start where you stopped at the previous day. My kids were raised to do this while ensuring at the least the basic functions were done(eating, bathing, etc.). However, my stepchildren were not. Without set time limits, we found out after many weeks of trying they would wake up, eat one meal, and do nothing on their own.
Anyways...with my son's question, the wheels turned in my head as the realization dawned on me.
"Well...no, I guess we don't have to," I replied after a long pause.
"Can we...watch TWO episodes tonight?" My son asked, his eyes growing wide at the potential.
"Well, crud. I guess I hadn't thought of that, either! I guess so. Why not? As long as you go to your room when we're done. You don't have to go to sleep, but you can have quiet time until you're tired."
Everyone got quiet.
"What?" I asked, freaked out but their uneasy quietness.
"Quiet time." My son said in a dreamy tone. "We can have...quiet."
With two stepchildren that have ADHD, my kids didn't get much quiet in their rooms. The stepchildren would mumble to themselves or talk to my kids even if they asked them not to until their bodies just crashed and went to sleep. My stepson, who shared a room with my son, was especially guilty of this. My son was going to sleep tonight without having my stepsons ramblings be the last thing he heard.
I don't know why, but I wanted to cry at his realization of this. He sounded so blissful...so awed, after two years, that he wouldn't be awake until the stepson's body thrust him and his nonstop mouth to sleep. He could sleep when he(my son) wanted to.
It was a quarter till eleven when we finished both episodes. The kids gave me their hugs and kisses and went to their rooms.
As I climbed into my own bed, I had realization number two. My door was closed and I was wearing pajama pants. I quickly set to change both, stripping off my pants and opening my door wide. I ran to the kids' room, this time with my own Christmas-like wonder.
"Hey, guys!!! You can leave your doors open and take off your pants! J and L aren't here!!!"
Another round of realization silence.
"I'm getting NAKED!!" my son joked.
"OHMYGAWSH, we really can go without pants!!" My oldest exclaimed.
Again...when we got the stepkids, I had to start closing my door. Because my stepson has a pornography addiction from before we received custody, I had to put strict guidelines about devices in place. Everyone returned their devices to my room every night. He had, on several occasions early on, sneak into my room at night if the door was left open and get a device to look at porn. After several times of this happening, I started closing(and then, after him STILL sneaking in, locking) my bedroom door at night. He eventually learned to pick my lock with a butter knife, so I also started propping something(usually a box) against my door. If he opened it, the noise of him tripping over the box would be loud enough to startle me awake.
Now I didn't have to worry about that!!!
The pants....well, it sort of tied into his pornography issue. We didn't want to tempt him with anything by exposing more skin than we had to. I know it's just legs...but still. Also, he and his sister would gawk and make us all feel extremely uncomfortable. Not because they don't practice nudity at their biological mother's house, but....because our skin is a different color. It's not meant to be racist, it was just...different to them. Because they weren't taught to stare, they stared. HARD. It was very awkward and uncomfortable for all four of us. So we just kept our doors closed and our pants on to avoid the whole ordeal.
You know how people say America's one of the freest countries in the world? Well, I've lived here all my life, but....having those three revelations last night, it really dawned on me.
We are truly free.
Until Next Time Chaotics,
~ Mama Jenn
Monday, April 9, 2018
Doing the Right Thing...Just Not Right for You
Greetings Once Again, Chaotics!
I'd like to give you some long, lengthy apology and justifiedreason excuse as to why I'm not writing consistently.
I have heard from several of you, and please let it be known...I hear you. I'm sorry.
I'm also going to apologize in advance if this entire post sounds super-vague and confusing. As much as I'd like to give you my usual, unfiltered blog post...this time, I cannot because it involves people that I don't have permission to write about.
For quite some time, there has been a bit of uneasiness in my heart and my home. I had noticed it going on in several close friends lives as well. We are waiting for something good to come because life was dealing us an awful hard blow(or five hundred). We all had different circumstances and situations, but the outcome was the same...lots of frustration, lots of questioning God, lots of anger/depression/tears/anxiety over what's next.
In my own situation, I can tell you that *it* was causing a HUGE strain on my family life and marriage. I've cried more in the past few months than I have my entire life. There were MANY times I cried out to God to do SOMETHING...ANYTHING...because if He didn't give me some kind of answer to the questions on my heart, my marriage would be over. The pressure of *it* was just too much.
This alone made me cry even more. I freaking LOVE my husband, I used to LOVE our life, and I was SO CERTAIN that everything we did was for the best for our family.
For the record....no, there are no drugs, abuse, or adultery involved.
My husband kept saying this was the right thing. My brain knew it must be the right thing. People are benefitting from this. It wasn't us, but...people somewhere were benefitting from this.
But...our marriage was starting to feel like a wrestling tag team instead of a marriage under the guise of the right thing. My husband felt like he was trying to please five masters, and no one was ever happy. I was being wrongfully placed under the headship of...not my husband, and as a result, I felt bitter. We were barely talking, and it was guaranteed that there were only a few days of polite speech before the arguments came. Words were exchanged. Feelings were hurt. Apologies would eventually come, but the problem of what started the argument in the first place was always there, unanswered. Simmering in the background of our hearts, waiting for another few days before it was brought front and center once again.
How can the right thing....bear such rotten fruit in us?
There were weeks we didn't speak. I largely did this because I didn't like the words *I* was saying when the arguments came anymore. I'm pretty sure there are many verses in the Bible that says a wise person holds their tongue. Well, I won't be the first to admit if I'm wise, but I was just tired of the hurt- being hurt and hurting him.
Once we did finally speak, the tears flowed. As we continued talking about *it*, we realized we were both stubbornly doing something we perceived as right(and to most people's standards...it would be right), but it just wasn't right for us. We both admitted everything within us screamed no, to not do it, but we had been under the impression it was our flesh that wanted nothing more than the easiest route to take. We refused to be THOSE people...the people that see a wrong and do nothing to make it right.
Hypocrites.
No, we were going to do the right thing.
....even if it destroyed our marriage.
I have no Bible verse to support this off the top of my head, but sometimes....we humans, in our limited wisdom, will see a wrong and want to right it. It doesn't matter what it is, or what religious background you adhere to. There is something in all of us that just wants to always do the right thing. We don't dare to think that by doing what we perceive is right, that anything could go very, VERY wrong for us.
Christians are not immune to this. I would dare to say that not only are we not immune to it, but we are the people more prone to it.
Why?
I can't speak for every Christian in my answer, but for myself, it is largely due to the many times I have focused on verses that say DO THE RIGHT THING without really going into the DO WHAT GOD CALLS YOU TO DO bit.
But...isn't always doing the right thing also doing what God calls you to do?
Simply put- no.
God will not always do what we perceive as the right thing AND at what we perceive to be the right time.
In our situation, we were called to do the right thing...for a season. But when the season was up, we kept riding the righteous right train. We unraveled more and more reasons why we must press on because clearly, the alternative was the WRONG thing. We justified it to each other and to ourselves...without the other's input and, I'm ashamed to say, without asking God what the next step was or if this was still the right thing for us to keep doing.
Simply put, we were doing what was right...in our own eyes. And when the fruit bore from it was rotten, we looked to God questioning and doubting each other and ourselves. We wondered if we were horrible people for thinking the alternative was better when we knew(again, in our own eyes), it was not.
This for me is so, so hard to admit. Because I had people...many people in my life, who unfortunately didn't know our full struggle with *it* tell me constantly we were doing the right thing. Heaping praise and giving us many pats on the back that we were doing such a right thing(even though many of them would then whisper they could never do it..but, oh, we're practically saints for doing it because it is SO RIGHT!)!
I can't speak for my husband, but for myself, it seemed as though this praise, this encouragement from others would usually come when everything within me was screaming "STOP IT!". I took that as a sign that, even though I wasn't consulting God on it, maybe God is giving me the encouragement I need to just keep doing it.
Looking back now, I see that it was not that at all. It was the selfish part of me, the part that LOVES to hear people see MY hard work and clap. Because let's be real here- these people weren't clapping in my direction when I was doing what God had called me to do for the long haul.
"There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death."~ Proverbs 16:25
I really don't understand why God, knowing how passionate I can become, would allow something that would by all the world's standards be the right thing to do....and only allow it for a season. I kept thinking.
Oh.
Wait.
After talking...really talking, to my husband, we both came to the conclusion above at the same time. It's like God took us, in that car, and mid-sentence knocked us upside the head and said "DUH, DUM-DUMS!!"
We hadn't been seeking His will.
We hadn't been asking Him if this was His Will for the long-term.
We hadn't involved Him in the process really....at all!
And guess what?
We got what happens when humans do that....we almost killed our marriage over *it*!
We did what we perceived to be right in our own minds. We cherry-picked scripture to further solidify it MUST be right.
But...we forgot.
When dealing with individual souls. futures, plans...
EVERY TIME...
God knows better than we do! He puts things, people, events into our paths. And not everything is meant to be in our own lives, hearts, atmospheres...forever! Sometimes, even though it seems right...it's not always right for us...forever!
And that's okay!
We may not at the time always understand. It may take years of wondering, questioning why we can't keep plowing through Rightsville even though it's very, very right.
In the end, though, I have learned. My husband has learned. We have both grown.
* Depending on God really is a moment by moment thing. Not just a solid yes or a solid no forever. If we do not as a couple continually ask God what's the next step, we WILL fall flat on our face each and every single time, even if it's while in the midst of doing the right thing.
* Listen to that still, small voice. Sometimes, God says "NO" or "Not forever", and we aren't God. Trying to change His plan to fit with ours never ends well. NEVER.
*Pride comes before a fall. If you aren't following God's will, aren't asking Him what's the next step, marching to beat of your own accordion, then it doesn't matter how right whatever you're doing is...you are being prideful, and you will fall. Hard. And it will hurt. A lot.
There are many things that will, to you and everyone around you, appear to be right. You may find verses to back up or justify your stance.
However, PLEASE remember what I've said here.
By doing the right thing, even God has not called you to it....or hasn't called it to you forever...will produce bad fruit. It will result in doing the right thing that's just not right for you.
Sometimes, God calls other people do it and by insisting you are the right person for the job, you may find yourself destroying relationships or future ministries.
Don't be that person.
Accept the fact that doing the right thing may indeed look like NOT doing anything, or doing the WRONG thing.
Even the wrong thing will be turned right in His hands, and His time.
Only if we let go of what we insist must be right.
Until Next Time,
~Mama Jenn
I'd like to give you some long, lengthy apology and justified
I have heard from several of you, and please let it be known...I hear you. I'm sorry.
I'm also going to apologize in advance if this entire post sounds super-vague and confusing. As much as I'd like to give you my usual, unfiltered blog post...this time, I cannot because it involves people that I don't have permission to write about.
For quite some time, there has been a bit of uneasiness in my heart and my home. I had noticed it going on in several close friends lives as well. We are waiting for something good to come because life was dealing us an awful hard blow(or five hundred). We all had different circumstances and situations, but the outcome was the same...lots of frustration, lots of questioning God, lots of anger/depression/tears/anxiety over what's next.
In my own situation, I can tell you that *it* was causing a HUGE strain on my family life and marriage. I've cried more in the past few months than I have my entire life. There were MANY times I cried out to God to do SOMETHING...ANYTHING...because if He didn't give me some kind of answer to the questions on my heart, my marriage would be over. The pressure of *it* was just too much.
This alone made me cry even more. I freaking LOVE my husband, I used to LOVE our life, and I was SO CERTAIN that everything we did was for the best for our family.
For the record....no, there are no drugs, abuse, or adultery involved.
My husband kept saying this was the right thing. My brain knew it must be the right thing. People are benefitting from this. It wasn't us, but...people somewhere were benefitting from this.
But...our marriage was starting to feel like a wrestling tag team instead of a marriage under the guise of the right thing. My husband felt like he was trying to please five masters, and no one was ever happy. I was being wrongfully placed under the headship of...not my husband, and as a result, I felt bitter. We were barely talking, and it was guaranteed that there were only a few days of polite speech before the arguments came. Words were exchanged. Feelings were hurt. Apologies would eventually come, but the problem of what started the argument in the first place was always there, unanswered. Simmering in the background of our hearts, waiting for another few days before it was brought front and center once again.
How can the right thing....bear such rotten fruit in us?
There were weeks we didn't speak. I largely did this because I didn't like the words *I* was saying when the arguments came anymore. I'm pretty sure there are many verses in the Bible that says a wise person holds their tongue. Well, I won't be the first to admit if I'm wise, but I was just tired of the hurt- being hurt and hurting him.
Once we did finally speak, the tears flowed. As we continued talking about *it*, we realized we were both stubbornly doing something we perceived as right(and to most people's standards...it would be right), but it just wasn't right for us. We both admitted everything within us screamed no, to not do it, but we had been under the impression it was our flesh that wanted nothing more than the easiest route to take. We refused to be THOSE people...the people that see a wrong and do nothing to make it right.
Hypocrites.
No, we were going to do the right thing.
....even if it destroyed our marriage.
I have no Bible verse to support this off the top of my head, but sometimes....we humans, in our limited wisdom, will see a wrong and want to right it. It doesn't matter what it is, or what religious background you adhere to. There is something in all of us that just wants to always do the right thing. We don't dare to think that by doing what we perceive is right, that anything could go very, VERY wrong for us.
Christians are not immune to this. I would dare to say that not only are we not immune to it, but we are the people more prone to it.
Why?
I can't speak for every Christian in my answer, but for myself, it is largely due to the many times I have focused on verses that say DO THE RIGHT THING without really going into the DO WHAT GOD CALLS YOU TO DO bit.
But...isn't always doing the right thing also doing what God calls you to do?
Simply put- no.
God will not always do what we perceive as the right thing AND at what we perceive to be the right time.
In our situation, we were called to do the right thing...for a season. But when the season was up, we kept riding the righteous right train. We unraveled more and more reasons why we must press on because clearly, the alternative was the WRONG thing. We justified it to each other and to ourselves...without the other's input and, I'm ashamed to say, without asking God what the next step was or if this was still the right thing for us to keep doing.
Simply put, we were doing what was right...in our own eyes. And when the fruit bore from it was rotten, we looked to God questioning and doubting each other and ourselves. We wondered if we were horrible people for thinking the alternative was better when we knew(again, in our own eyes), it was not.
This for me is so, so hard to admit. Because I had people...many people in my life, who unfortunately didn't know our full struggle with *it* tell me constantly we were doing the right thing. Heaping praise and giving us many pats on the back that we were doing such a right thing(even though many of them would then whisper they could never do it..but, oh, we're practically saints for doing it because it is SO RIGHT!)!
I can't speak for my husband, but for myself, it seemed as though this praise, this encouragement from others would usually come when everything within me was screaming "STOP IT!". I took that as a sign that, even though I wasn't consulting God on it, maybe God is giving me the encouragement I need to just keep doing it.
Looking back now, I see that it was not that at all. It was the selfish part of me, the part that LOVES to hear people see MY hard work and clap. Because let's be real here- these people weren't clapping in my direction when I was doing what God had called me to do for the long haul.
"There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death."~ Proverbs 16:25
I really don't understand why God, knowing how passionate I can become, would allow something that would by all the world's standards be the right thing to do....and only allow it for a season. I kept thinking.
Oh.
Wait.
After talking...really talking, to my husband, we both came to the conclusion above at the same time. It's like God took us, in that car, and mid-sentence knocked us upside the head and said "DUH, DUM-DUMS!!"
We hadn't been seeking His will.
We hadn't been asking Him if this was His Will for the long-term.
We hadn't involved Him in the process really....at all!
And guess what?
We got what happens when humans do that....we almost killed our marriage over *it*!
We did what we perceived to be right in our own minds. We cherry-picked scripture to further solidify it MUST be right.
But...we forgot.
When dealing with individual souls. futures, plans...
EVERY TIME...
God knows better than we do! He puts things, people, events into our paths. And not everything is meant to be in our own lives, hearts, atmospheres...forever! Sometimes, even though it seems right...it's not always right for us...forever!
And that's okay!
We may not at the time always understand. It may take years of wondering, questioning why we can't keep plowing through Rightsville even though it's very, very right.
In the end, though, I have learned. My husband has learned. We have both grown.
* Depending on God really is a moment by moment thing. Not just a solid yes or a solid no forever. If we do not as a couple continually ask God what's the next step, we WILL fall flat on our face each and every single time, even if it's while in the midst of doing the right thing.
* Listen to that still, small voice. Sometimes, God says "NO" or "Not forever", and we aren't God. Trying to change His plan to fit with ours never ends well. NEVER.
*Pride comes before a fall. If you aren't following God's will, aren't asking Him what's the next step, marching to beat of your own accordion, then it doesn't matter how right whatever you're doing is...you are being prideful, and you will fall. Hard. And it will hurt. A lot.
There are many things that will, to you and everyone around you, appear to be right. You may find verses to back up or justify your stance.
However, PLEASE remember what I've said here.
By doing the right thing, even God has not called you to it....or hasn't called it to you forever...will produce bad fruit. It will result in doing the right thing that's just not right for you.
Sometimes, God calls other people do it and by insisting you are the right person for the job, you may find yourself destroying relationships or future ministries.
Don't be that person.
Accept the fact that doing the right thing may indeed look like NOT doing anything, or doing the WRONG thing.
Even the wrong thing will be turned right in His hands, and His time.
Only if we let go of what we insist must be right.
Until Next Time,
~Mama Jenn
Sunday, March 11, 2018
StepMom Chronicles, Part 1: "You Knew What You Were Getting Into..."
Greetings, Chaotics!
Today, I thought I'd start a series of posts about my (mis)adventures as a stepmother.
This week, I'm dealing with an often said thing to stepmothers when they hit a point of frustration.
"You knew what you were getting into..."
Let me start by first saying I was am an overachieving fool. I'd also like to add that I myself am a stepchild.
When I married my husband, I assumed things were pretty normal. He got married, he had two children, he got divorced. When we met, he was in the thick of the divorce part. I was his friend back then, so hearing him get frustrated about his "crazy ex-wife" didn't affect me. I was an ear to listen and vent to and to offer my own perspective. Besides, don't all men call their exes crazy women at some point?
When things started to get serious between us, I asked him more about his children. I talked to them a handful of times. They both sounded shy, so I didn't press anything. After all, I was this weird black lady talking to their dad on Skype and over the phone from 2,000 miles away. Being a shy child myself, I could understand their inability to warm up to me in those circumstances.
When we started talking(and working towards) meeting and getting married, again...I assumed things would just fall into place. Eventually. I thought back to evolving relationship with my own stepmother. I initially was shy, and kinda freaked out that another woman was spending SO MUCH TIME with my dad. Then, she was just...sort of there. I didn't really think about it as good or bad, I didn't question why she was there or why I had to interact with her. I was a child; I was told not told to respect all adults and obey all rules. She was an adult and I tried to respect and obey her. I don't recall many times(until my teen years, when we had to start living together) that I ever disobeyed or told her I didn't like her. I didn't like her(because my mom didn't like her), but I was a kid-my opinion meant diddly squat to adults.
When we had to live together, I(in all my teenage wisdom) saw my dad being "controlled" by her. My dad was a cool guy- he always bought me things when he thought to and he paid his child support. I mean, surely SHE had to be the problem. There's no way my dad could be that much of a jerk to me without her pulling some invisible strings to make it so. Plus, I was hurting from the loss of my own mother(she passed when I was 13). I wanted someone, anyone to take out my frustration and confusion on, and like I said...she was just...there.
Then, I became an older teen/young adult. Our relationship was hit or miss, but it was overall better. I still thought I knew everything and she was just trying to fill the space in my heart that arrived when my mom passed. Sorry, nope, I don't WANT another mom, I had one. Flaws and all, she was amazeballs and you're not(all the time, anyway).
Then...I became an adult. She was still "my stepmom", but our relationship improved. I became a mom, she treated my kids as her grandbabies and I didn't fight it. She and my dad did their best to be there for my kids, and as a single mom, I needed any and all help I could get. She jumped in eagerly during holiday meals at my house to do the dishes, or stir whatever was on the stove or baste whatever was in the oven. She recorded shows that my kids wanted to watch but couldn't because of our tight finances. She and my dad bought them stuffed toys year round and Christmas presents, birthday presents, and "just because" presents. I'd talk to her for hours on end, about my budding faith, about mom life, about things going on in my life. She rarely criticized me for doing stupid things and defended/pleaded for me when my dad was telling me(in his harsh voice) that I was screwing up AGAIN. She called me "daughter" and I didn't fight it.
So, excuse me for thinking that my relationship with my own(soon-to-be) stepchildren would be just like that. I thought I AM a stepkid so I know EXACTLY what I am "getting myself into, thank-you-very-much."
Except.....I had NO FREAKING CLUE.
My first encounter with my stepchildren was, at first, what I expected. I met their mother, I saw them for the first time face-to-face, it was a lot of awkward silences/nervous laughter at the wrong times, and looking down at feet for me.
I went to greet my stepson. I tried to shake hands with him. I knew what it was like to force physical contact from a relative you can't stand, I didn't want to be that person. I thought a handshake would be non-invasive.
"Hi, remember me? I'm Jenn. How are you doing?"
He looked at my hand like it was a freak of nature. He looked at his mom. Back to my freak of nature hand, just hanging there in mid-air. He looked down at the ground.
"My mom says you're not my REAL mom. That you're JUST marrying my dad. And I don't HAVE to call you mom or anything else. And you're not replacing MY MOM. You're not going to be MY MOM."
Uhm.
I looked over to their mother. She sneered at me.
Well, there goes my notion of The Brady Brunch.
Back home, an adult would have slapped a child for talking so rudely to an adult. Here, nothing was done.
Toto, I don't think we're in PA anymore...
That entire summer was filled with lots of ugly crying calls to my husband from the bathroom, lots of "hidden stash" chocolate consumed(and not all of it from me), lots of screaming, and lots of feeling "WHAT THE HELL DID I GET MYSELF INTO?!?!"
No. I did NOT know what I was getting myself into. And I'm not alone- most stepmothers today say the same thing. This quote is a horrible quote to say to a hurting, confused stepmother. None of us had a clue as to what we were getting into.
Sure, there are(so I am told) adults out there that marry, have kids, get divorced, get remarried and everything is peachy-keen. Co-parenting is done swimmingly. There's rarely a disagreement, the kids know their place, and adults think and interact with the best interest of the children. If there's any anger towards one parent's way of doing things, it's resolved or discussed without one person feeling attacked. Stepmother and Biological Mother even become friends, taking pictures together with hashtags along the lines of "this is how adults do it" or "This is what REAL co-parenting looks like".
But for a bulk of us...it is not this way. For whatever reasons, Biological mothers or fathers are bitter about how the divorce(or split-up) went down and use the kids at every opportunity to make their former spouse miserable. They're hurt their relationship didn't work and take them to court for EVERYTHING. Or use the kids as instruments of power, to control their ex-spouse and their new partner.
Kids are left in the dark. They don't know why their parents split or want to blame it on one parent unjustly. Most of these kids don't get therapy(and trust me, some NEED it) or have a healthy way of expressing their frustrations. They are transported from one house to another, never really getting comfortable, truly comfortable in either. They have to abide by two sets of house rules, two ways of life, and they can't always keep it straight which rule/way of life is for which parent/house.
No. I did NOT know what I was getting myself into.
I know if people who come from divorce in these sort of situations were honest...COMPLETELY honest, there would be no second(or third or whatever) marriages. Any potentials would have been run off and freaked out by their dynamics.
I had NO CLUE that my husband's ex-wife was ACTUALLY freaking crazy. Not just the "I can't stand that woman, she's nuts!" crazy, but the "oh, she's medically confirmed as bipolar and sometimes chooses not to take her medications and does illegal things from time to time" sort of crazy.
(and please...before I get hate mail from people that are bipolar and "I'm clearly stereotyping and how dare me", unless you've lost you're kids three times and have CPS knocking on your door at least once every two to three years, sit down. If you can relatively function as an adult on a regular basis and take your medications as prescribed without self-medicating with what our state considers an illegal drug, then I'm not talking to/about you. I'm talking about the one person I encounter that has it, NOT all of the people that have it. )
I had NO CLUE my stepchildren were being neglected, or that they were special needs. That first(and second) summer, I thought they hated me and (by their actions) letting me know it every chance they got. I wrongfully called them "little heathens" to my friends because I didn't know the extent of what they've gone through/the way they were processing the world. I didn't know there WAS such a thing as adults that didn't really make children a priority. I mean, I guess I did in the grand scheme of things. But those are the parents you usually see on the 6o'clock news, getting their kids taken away from them. Not, you know...being given visitation and summers together because well, that's their mom, whatareyagonnado?
No. I didn't know what I was getting into.
I had only seen step-parenting as a stepchild. And, my parents(and stepmother) did a whole lot of adulting, and adulting well, because I thought despite not liking each other, they shielded me from an awful lot. If there were fights between them, or disagreements, or bitterness, I rarely saw it. If my stepmother didn't like me because(let's be real here), I was a total BRAT, she hid it awfully well. I only recall one incident, when she called her relatives and spoke Spanish(which I don't speak fluently) in an angry tone after getting into a fight with my dad about something I did. If she cried and ate chocolate in the bathroom, I never knew it. If she ever wished someone, anyone would take me instead of her and my dad, I never heard it. If she ever wondered what she got herself into, she never voiced it within my earshot.
Please don't assume that when someone marries another person with a child/children, that they KNOW what they're getting themselves into. Just like people who decided "let's have a baby" or "let's get married"doesn't 100% know what they're getting into...step parents are no different. There are unspoken dynamics, there are messy, imperfect people(and more of them) involved. There is assumptions of how it's going to be, and expectations never fully met. There are sides of people never seen until thrust in certain situations-sometimes good, sometimes not. There are children one(or more) adults didn't raise or give birth to, and there's the expectation we're supposed to just get this internal instinct upon saying "I do" that these kids are supposed to feel JUST like ours, we're supposed to treat them as if they are our own(until the Biological mother finds out), when society is screaming at us every chance they get that they're not.
When becoming a step-parent, no one completely knows what they're getting themselves into. NO ONE.
So, please, stop saying this when a step-parent comes to you in frustration. It does nothing to help them feel better, and often times, makes us feel worse. We feel like we SHOULD of known without you telling us so. We feel terrible when we weren't handed whatever wisdom should of been given by the step-god-mother fairy upon putting on the ring. We often feel like we're the only ones sucking rocks at this, something must be wrong with US, because, look at so-and-so, they're totally nailing it and I'm totally NOT.
Instead, just listen. Be a good friend. Pray for us. Stepmothers need those more than your opinion of what knowledge we should have received beforehand. And by all means, if you ARE a step-parent and have some wisdom to impart, TELL US. Not in a condescending way, please; but an "I've been there and I can relate to your feelings" sort of way.
And most of all...give us chocolate.
I'm not speaking for EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US. There are poor unfortunate stepmothers that are allergic to the stuff.
Pray harder for those stepmothers.
But for the rest of us....having chocolate and tissues on hand helps.
Having a sympathetic ear to listen...helps.
Not throwing shade on their feelings by saying "You knew what you were getting into..." that REALLY helps.
Until Next Time,
~ Mama Jenn
Today, I thought I'd start a series of posts about my (mis)adventures as a stepmother.
This week, I'm dealing with an often said thing to stepmothers when they hit a point of frustration.
"You knew what you were getting into..."
Let me start by first saying I
When I married my husband, I assumed things were pretty normal. He got married, he had two children, he got divorced. When we met, he was in the thick of the divorce part. I was his friend back then, so hearing him get frustrated about his "crazy ex-wife" didn't affect me. I was an ear to listen and vent to and to offer my own perspective. Besides, don't all men call their exes crazy women at some point?
When things started to get serious between us, I asked him more about his children. I talked to them a handful of times. They both sounded shy, so I didn't press anything. After all, I was this weird black lady talking to their dad on Skype and over the phone from 2,000 miles away. Being a shy child myself, I could understand their inability to warm up to me in those circumstances.
When we started talking(and working towards) meeting and getting married, again...I assumed things would just fall into place. Eventually. I thought back to evolving relationship with my own stepmother. I initially was shy, and kinda freaked out that another woman was spending SO MUCH TIME with my dad. Then, she was just...sort of there. I didn't really think about it as good or bad, I didn't question why she was there or why I had to interact with her. I was a child; I was told not told to respect all adults and obey all rules. She was an adult and I tried to respect and obey her. I don't recall many times(until my teen years, when we had to start living together) that I ever disobeyed or told her I didn't like her. I didn't like her(because my mom didn't like her), but I was a kid-my opinion meant diddly squat to adults.
When we had to live together, I(in all my teenage wisdom) saw my dad being "controlled" by her. My dad was a cool guy- he always bought me things when he thought to and he paid his child support. I mean, surely SHE had to be the problem. There's no way my dad could be that much of a jerk to me without her pulling some invisible strings to make it so. Plus, I was hurting from the loss of my own mother(she passed when I was 13). I wanted someone, anyone to take out my frustration and confusion on, and like I said...she was just...there.
Then, I became an older teen/young adult. Our relationship was hit or miss, but it was overall better. I still thought I knew everything and she was just trying to fill the space in my heart that arrived when my mom passed. Sorry, nope, I don't WANT another mom, I had one. Flaws and all, she was amazeballs and you're not(all the time, anyway).
Then...I became an adult. She was still "my stepmom", but our relationship improved. I became a mom, she treated my kids as her grandbabies and I didn't fight it. She and my dad did their best to be there for my kids, and as a single mom, I needed any and all help I could get. She jumped in eagerly during holiday meals at my house to do the dishes, or stir whatever was on the stove or baste whatever was in the oven. She recorded shows that my kids wanted to watch but couldn't because of our tight finances. She and my dad bought them stuffed toys year round and Christmas presents, birthday presents, and "just because" presents. I'd talk to her for hours on end, about my budding faith, about mom life, about things going on in my life. She rarely criticized me for doing stupid things and defended/pleaded for me when my dad was telling me(in his harsh voice) that I was screwing up AGAIN. She called me "daughter" and I didn't fight it.
So, excuse me for thinking that my relationship with my own(soon-to-be) stepchildren would be just like that. I thought I AM a stepkid so I know EXACTLY what I am "getting myself into, thank-you-very-much."
Except.....I had NO FREAKING CLUE.
My first encounter with my stepchildren was, at first, what I expected. I met their mother, I saw them for the first time face-to-face, it was a lot of awkward silences/nervous laughter at the wrong times, and looking down at feet for me.
I went to greet my stepson. I tried to shake hands with him. I knew what it was like to force physical contact from a relative you can't stand, I didn't want to be that person. I thought a handshake would be non-invasive.
"Hi, remember me? I'm Jenn. How are you doing?"
He looked at my hand like it was a freak of nature. He looked at his mom. Back to my freak of nature hand, just hanging there in mid-air. He looked down at the ground.
"My mom says you're not my REAL mom. That you're JUST marrying my dad. And I don't HAVE to call you mom or anything else. And you're not replacing MY MOM. You're not going to be MY MOM."
Uhm.
I looked over to their mother. She sneered at me.
Well, there goes my notion of The Brady Brunch.
Back home, an adult would have slapped a child for talking so rudely to an adult. Here, nothing was done.
Toto, I don't think we're in PA anymore...
That entire summer was filled with lots of ugly crying calls to my husband from the bathroom, lots of "hidden stash" chocolate consumed(and not all of it from me), lots of screaming, and lots of feeling "WHAT THE HELL DID I GET MYSELF INTO?!?!"
No. I did NOT know what I was getting myself into. And I'm not alone- most stepmothers today say the same thing. This quote is a horrible quote to say to a hurting, confused stepmother. None of us had a clue as to what we were getting into.
Sure, there are(so I am told) adults out there that marry, have kids, get divorced, get remarried and everything is peachy-keen. Co-parenting is done swimmingly. There's rarely a disagreement, the kids know their place, and adults think and interact with the best interest of the children. If there's any anger towards one parent's way of doing things, it's resolved or discussed without one person feeling attacked. Stepmother and Biological Mother even become friends, taking pictures together with hashtags along the lines of "this is how adults do it" or "This is what REAL co-parenting looks like".
But for a bulk of us...it is not this way. For whatever reasons, Biological mothers or fathers are bitter about how the divorce(or split-up) went down and use the kids at every opportunity to make their former spouse miserable. They're hurt their relationship didn't work and take them to court for EVERYTHING. Or use the kids as instruments of power, to control their ex-spouse and their new partner.
Kids are left in the dark. They don't know why their parents split or want to blame it on one parent unjustly. Most of these kids don't get therapy(and trust me, some NEED it) or have a healthy way of expressing their frustrations. They are transported from one house to another, never really getting comfortable, truly comfortable in either. They have to abide by two sets of house rules, two ways of life, and they can't always keep it straight which rule/way of life is for which parent/house.
No. I did NOT know what I was getting myself into.
I know if people who come from divorce in these sort of situations were honest...COMPLETELY honest, there would be no second(or third or whatever) marriages. Any potentials would have been run off and freaked out by their dynamics.
I had NO CLUE that my husband's ex-wife was ACTUALLY freaking crazy. Not just the "I can't stand that woman, she's nuts!" crazy, but the "oh, she's medically confirmed as bipolar and sometimes chooses not to take her medications and does illegal things from time to time" sort of crazy.
(and please...before I get hate mail from people that are bipolar and "I'm clearly stereotyping and how dare me", unless you've lost you're kids three times and have CPS knocking on your door at least once every two to three years, sit down. If you can relatively function as an adult on a regular basis and take your medications as prescribed without self-medicating with what our state considers an illegal drug, then I'm not talking to/about you. I'm talking about the one person I encounter that has it, NOT all of the people that have it. )
I had NO CLUE my stepchildren were being neglected, or that they were special needs. That first(and second) summer, I thought they hated me and (by their actions) letting me know it every chance they got. I wrongfully called them "little heathens" to my friends because I didn't know the extent of what they've gone through/the way they were processing the world. I didn't know there WAS such a thing as adults that didn't really make children a priority. I mean, I guess I did in the grand scheme of things. But those are the parents you usually see on the 6o'clock news, getting their kids taken away from them. Not, you know...being given visitation and summers together because well, that's their mom, whatareyagonnado?
No. I didn't know what I was getting into.
I had only seen step-parenting as a stepchild. And, my parents(and stepmother) did a whole lot of adulting, and adulting well, because I thought despite not liking each other, they shielded me from an awful lot. If there were fights between them, or disagreements, or bitterness, I rarely saw it. If my stepmother didn't like me because(let's be real here), I was a total BRAT, she hid it awfully well. I only recall one incident, when she called her relatives and spoke Spanish(which I don't speak fluently) in an angry tone after getting into a fight with my dad about something I did. If she cried and ate chocolate in the bathroom, I never knew it. If she ever wished someone, anyone would take me instead of her and my dad, I never heard it. If she ever wondered what she got herself into, she never voiced it within my earshot.
Please don't assume that when someone marries another person with a child/children, that they KNOW what they're getting themselves into. Just like people who decided "let's have a baby" or "let's get married"doesn't 100% know what they're getting into...step parents are no different. There are unspoken dynamics, there are messy, imperfect people(and more of them) involved. There is assumptions of how it's going to be, and expectations never fully met. There are sides of people never seen until thrust in certain situations-sometimes good, sometimes not. There are children one(or more) adults didn't raise or give birth to, and there's the expectation we're supposed to just get this internal instinct upon saying "I do" that these kids are supposed to feel JUST like ours, we're supposed to treat them as if they are our own(until the Biological mother finds out), when society is screaming at us every chance they get that they're not.
When becoming a step-parent, no one completely knows what they're getting themselves into. NO ONE.
So, please, stop saying this when a step-parent comes to you in frustration. It does nothing to help them feel better, and often times, makes us feel worse. We feel like we SHOULD of known without you telling us so. We feel terrible when we weren't handed whatever wisdom should of been given by the step-god-mother fairy upon putting on the ring. We often feel like we're the only ones sucking rocks at this, something must be wrong with US, because, look at so-and-so, they're totally nailing it and I'm totally NOT.
Instead, just listen. Be a good friend. Pray for us. Stepmothers need those more than your opinion of what knowledge we should have received beforehand. And by all means, if you ARE a step-parent and have some wisdom to impart, TELL US. Not in a condescending way, please; but an "I've been there and I can relate to your feelings" sort of way.
And most of all...give us chocolate.
I'm not speaking for EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US. There are poor unfortunate stepmothers that are allergic to the stuff.
Pray harder for those stepmothers.
But for the rest of us....having chocolate and tissues on hand helps.
Having a sympathetic ear to listen...helps.
Not throwing shade on their feelings by saying "You knew what you were getting into..." that REALLY helps.
Until Next Time,
~ Mama Jenn
Monday, January 1, 2018
WordS of the Year
Greetings once again, Chaotics!
Hope everyone is having a great start to the New Year!
Speaking of...have you decided on YOUR New Years Goals/ Resolutions/Word for the Year?
The past few days, I've had time to sit down and reflect on my word from last year. If you'd like a recap of 2016, as well as a more detailed explanation of what my word was, click here.
Last Year's Word was: Peace.
And, if I have to be honest....last year was anything but Peaceful, despite my effort and prayer!
(Keep an eye on my YT channel to find out why! I'll update this post when I upload it)
This year, as I thought and prayed...I realized I can't really give ONE word alone to my year. As much as I'd like to, each season...each month is different. I have different goals for each, and although the idea of just one word helps me to strive towards consistency throughout the whole year...call me crazy, but I need several words to further refine and redefine my life for an entire year!
(Clear as mud? Okay, great!)
With all that said...this season's word came to me as I answered a question on social media so others could get to know me better. As I looked back with longing of previous Winter's, I realized that we had NONE of that word this year. As I approached the end of Thanksgiving and the start of Winter holidays(my birthday, Winter Solstice, Christmas, New Years)....for the first time, I didn't feel the usual excitedness or joy that came with this time. I felt rushed, frazzled, and downright robotic(i.e.-going through the motions). On my birthday, I cried. Christmas came and went and the only thing I looked forward to was...it being over. New Year's Eve arrived and all I wanted to do was sleep right through it.
My home's atmosphere didn't feel the usual buzz of anticipation for this season, nor did it reflect it. The people within felt the overall uneasiness and responded accordingly.
It dawned on me that my heart, my home, my family...NONE of us were ready or prepared for the start of Winter, nor did we do the usual things that open our hearts to welcome the season. We were all waiting, restlessly, for the traditions that tell us this time is here. Because of everything surrounding our family, my brain was on autopilot and the traditions fell by the wayside. When I tried to start one, I was reminded we skipped a previous one, and we couldn't fully enjoy the one we were on because we did them out of order.
With the start of the New Year...I realized one word, one key element was lacking at the start of our Winter. That word is my word for the season: SAVOR.
We were restless because we weren't slowing down. Isn't that what Winter as a whole makes us do...slow down and savor the things within?
We can't inhale usual Winter treats...they're usually too hot for us to do so! If we didn't savor the cup of hot cocoa, or the cookie fresh from the oven, or the stew in the crock pot...we'd give ourselves third-degree burns!
If we don't slow down on Winter roads(we may not savor winter driving, and that's okay)...we'd cause an accident!
We can't rush through warming ourselves by the fireplace. We can't quickly set up the Christmas tree. Stories or memories of past Winters can't be read/said "Long story short edition". Traditions for this time of year are like fast food...there's no "drive-by edition".
Winter makes us SAVOR and slow down. Snow, cold, ice...they may be inconvenient to some, but to people like me, they are a reminder that this season was intended to be enjoyed at a less frantic pace. You simply cannot "GO GO GO" during Winter....our bodies, our minds, our souls(not to mention, most of our cars) are not designed to do so!
And as I thought about these things(and the seasonal theme of SAVOR)...another word came to mind for this month. As I reflected on my heart, I started to reflect on my home. Our home is a reflection, a mirror to which we can better see what's inside our souls.
What does my home reflect? Well, if I'm being honest(I am!), my home is reflecting CHAOS(and no, not the good kind that's the theme behind this blog). As a meme I saw once read:
"My Housekeeping Style is Best Described as "There Appears to Have Been A Struggle"".
Ain't that the truth! Last year, I said I wanted order and organization. However, adding two special needs children to our home this past year resulted in something FAR from order and organization! It resulted in an outward showing of the changes that happened within all of us, as we adjusted to these new additions...and not in a good way at ALL!
My home became a battleground of wits. It wasn't a home-it was a WARZONE! It was no longer a place of refuge from the world like it used to be. To see us nearing these four walls did NOT give me a sense of peace...it made me want to run the other direction!
What happened? Our house was no longer a HAVEN.
It lacked the love of homemaking I once had because I was up to my eyeballs in BUSY, NAGGING, and constant REMINDING. I felt like a firefighter in my own house...not trying to find ways to safely avoid fires, but just extinguishing one fire and waiting for the next. I woke up each morning in panic mode, and I went to bed each day feeling like I had done nothing more than keep the flames to a minimum.
My January word, as a result, is HAVEN. I am working towards many goals this month, but the central theme for it is returning my house back into a home; a haven, a place of refuge. I'm hoping and praying throughout this month that as I open myself to better organization and order within my home, the people within will do the same.
Granted...5 of these people ARE kids. But, that's why God gave us prayer, right?
SAVOR and HAVEN. Those are my words for the start of 2018.
What word(s) are Y'all working towards building up more of in your own lives? I'd love to hear about it!
Until Next Time,
~Mama Jenn
Hope everyone is having a great start to the New Year!
Speaking of...have you decided on YOUR New Years Goals/ Resolutions/Word for the Year?
The past few days, I've had time to sit down and reflect on my word from last year. If you'd like a recap of 2016, as well as a more detailed explanation of what my word was, click here.
Last Year's Word was: Peace.
And, if I have to be honest....last year was anything but Peaceful, despite my effort and prayer!
(Keep an eye on my YT channel to find out why! I'll update this post when I upload it)
This year, as I thought and prayed...I realized I can't really give ONE word alone to my year. As much as I'd like to, each season...each month is different. I have different goals for each, and although the idea of just one word helps me to strive towards consistency throughout the whole year...call me crazy, but I need several words to further refine and redefine my life for an entire year!
(Clear as mud? Okay, great!)
With all that said...this season's word came to me as I answered a question on social media so others could get to know me better. As I looked back with longing of previous Winter's, I realized that we had NONE of that word this year. As I approached the end of Thanksgiving and the start of Winter holidays(my birthday, Winter Solstice, Christmas, New Years)....for the first time, I didn't feel the usual excitedness or joy that came with this time. I felt rushed, frazzled, and downright robotic(i.e.-going through the motions). On my birthday, I cried. Christmas came and went and the only thing I looked forward to was...it being over. New Year's Eve arrived and all I wanted to do was sleep right through it.
My home's atmosphere didn't feel the usual buzz of anticipation for this season, nor did it reflect it. The people within felt the overall uneasiness and responded accordingly.
It dawned on me that my heart, my home, my family...NONE of us were ready or prepared for the start of Winter, nor did we do the usual things that open our hearts to welcome the season. We were all waiting, restlessly, for the traditions that tell us this time is here. Because of everything surrounding our family, my brain was on autopilot and the traditions fell by the wayside. When I tried to start one, I was reminded we skipped a previous one, and we couldn't fully enjoy the one we were on because we did them out of order.
With the start of the New Year...I realized one word, one key element was lacking at the start of our Winter. That word is my word for the season: SAVOR.
We were restless because we weren't slowing down. Isn't that what Winter as a whole makes us do...slow down and savor the things within?
We can't inhale usual Winter treats...they're usually too hot for us to do so! If we didn't savor the cup of hot cocoa, or the cookie fresh from the oven, or the stew in the crock pot...we'd give ourselves third-degree burns!
If we don't slow down on Winter roads(we may not savor winter driving, and that's okay)...we'd cause an accident!
We can't rush through warming ourselves by the fireplace. We can't quickly set up the Christmas tree. Stories or memories of past Winters can't be read/said "Long story short edition". Traditions for this time of year are like fast food...there's no "drive-by edition".
Winter makes us SAVOR and slow down. Snow, cold, ice...they may be inconvenient to some, but to people like me, they are a reminder that this season was intended to be enjoyed at a less frantic pace. You simply cannot "GO GO GO" during Winter....our bodies, our minds, our souls(not to mention, most of our cars) are not designed to do so!
And as I thought about these things(and the seasonal theme of SAVOR)...another word came to mind for this month. As I reflected on my heart, I started to reflect on my home. Our home is a reflection, a mirror to which we can better see what's inside our souls.
What does my home reflect? Well, if I'm being honest(I am!), my home is reflecting CHAOS(and no, not the good kind that's the theme behind this blog). As a meme I saw once read:
"My Housekeeping Style is Best Described as "There Appears to Have Been A Struggle"".
Ain't that the truth! Last year, I said I wanted order and organization. However, adding two special needs children to our home this past year resulted in something FAR from order and organization! It resulted in an outward showing of the changes that happened within all of us, as we adjusted to these new additions...and not in a good way at ALL!
My home became a battleground of wits. It wasn't a home-it was a WARZONE! It was no longer a place of refuge from the world like it used to be. To see us nearing these four walls did NOT give me a sense of peace...it made me want to run the other direction!
What happened? Our house was no longer a HAVEN.
It lacked the love of homemaking I once had because I was up to my eyeballs in BUSY, NAGGING, and constant REMINDING. I felt like a firefighter in my own house...not trying to find ways to safely avoid fires, but just extinguishing one fire and waiting for the next. I woke up each morning in panic mode, and I went to bed each day feeling like I had done nothing more than keep the flames to a minimum.
My January word, as a result, is HAVEN. I am working towards many goals this month, but the central theme for it is returning my house back into a home; a haven, a place of refuge. I'm hoping and praying throughout this month that as I open myself to better organization and order within my home, the people within will do the same.
Granted...5 of these people ARE kids. But, that's why God gave us prayer, right?
SAVOR and HAVEN. Those are my words for the start of 2018.
What word(s) are Y'all working towards building up more of in your own lives? I'd love to hear about it!
Until Next Time,
~Mama Jenn
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